It doesnt matter who or what you are as a human being, when you die, you have every right in this world to die at Peace. I'm serious, don't you dare ever let anyone tell you anything different. Total and utterly complete Peace and closure towards all the events of your life, both good and not-so-good. They say no one can ever take that away from you; but, I'm here to tell you that "they" are wrong. Just as we have no guarantees that our lives are gonna turn out great, there are no guarantees that our lives are going to end in total peace either.
"Jack" isn't his real name - that is something I will reveal when I personally know the time is right; however, for the prevention of confusion in this blog, I will refer to him as "Jack."
When someone you love is dying, especially when it's someone you originally planned to spend the rest of your life with and grow old with, you become extremely protective over the other person, over their basic human rights and especially towards their wishes during whatever precious time you two have left together. And you know in your heart that you are going to personally do whatever it takes to make sure they are comfortable, to make sure they know how loved they are because although you spend every day watching them getting sicker and weaker, and thinner, you can still make mutual eye contact with them and know that after all is said and done, you'd still conquer the world for them.
My Jack was denied the right to die in Peace because the horrible memories of that meeting haunted him till the day he died. Can anyone even begin to imagine the heartbreak it can (it did) cause to not be able to give the person you loved more than anything in the world their last wish? His right to die in 100% total piece was robbed from him. It was wrong. Nothing I could say or do could change that, all I could do was exactly what I did do - love him unconditionally.
What about my anger and resentment towards what happened? For those times when I get weak in my own life, I look back - once in awhile - and ask myself "What could I have done different? Was there anything humanly possible that I could have done better?" And I remind myself - even with being a very mature near-23 year old, I wasn't much older than a kid and I took on people who were much older and more experienced about life than myself, and I did the best I truly could. And I think it's true - I truly don't know anyone else who could've done a better job than I did in defending and protecting Jack. And the funny thing of it all is that none of it was planned, not even my speech that day - the adrenalin raised, my mouth opened and the words flowed out like manna from Heaven - no shit! All I was back then was a simple young man who happened to fall head-over-heels in love with a guy who blew my world right off the map, I had no idea that things would turn out the way they did.
Nothing I say or do can bring him back, but he will always live in my heart. That reminds me, I've been asked this question several times in the last couple of months so allow me to answer it with a story. In one of "The Golden Girls" episodes, Sophia is a real stinker and pulls a horrible joke on Rose when she receives a ring from her boyfriend Miles. Towards the end of the episode Sophia comes somewhat clean of her horrible prank and when Rose answers a question she more or less states that she thinks her deceased husband would want her to accept the ring because her boyfriend can love her in a way that her deceased husband cant right now. And that's exactly how I feel about Jack. He knows how much I still love him; but, I also know that he would want me to be happy and if that meant meeting someone special again in my life, I think he would be okay with that. I know he would. He was a good, decent man.
Is there anything I want from the world in regards to one of the most traumatic experiences of my lifetime? Not really. Wait. Yeah, there is one thing I would like to request. From this day forward, unconditionally, I want any and everyone who reads this blog to promise both me and themselves that the next time they read a story about this-or-that wonderful organization - regardless if it's in the mainstream press or gay press - that you have the intelligence and common sense to realize that not every story you read is the full story. That's not asking too much from anyone, is it, really?
Do I have any revengeful feelings today? Being venegeful means being hateful, at least in my book, and I dont know about the rest of you but I have no room in my life for hatred, grudges, any of that negative stuff. All I have room for is a good attitude, doing my best to make it through the not-so-good times and living life as fully as I can with the circumstances of my overall life situation. I'm not ever ever going to give up on life or fighting this disease, because I firmly believe that we all are here for a reason. Jack did too.
As for that reporter, the rage that his cruel, heartless affront against both Jack and I caused was something that took me years to get over. For the longest time I wanted to be like Sly Stallone in one of his Commando movies and track him down and rip out his esophoghaus with my bare hands and say to him as he was bleeding to death in front of me "Mind if I use this for a jumprope, Motherfucker???" Yep, that woulda been revenge alright but that would not have brought Jack back. As I said before, the best revenge is to live as happy and as full a life as you possibly can.
And if I ever ran into him today, in the year 2010 and beyond? Hell, to be honest guys, I don't even know if he's alive but that one-in-a-million chance I ever would run into him I think I know what I would say. "Remember what you said to Jack and I the last time you saw us two? Well, he couldn't respond to you then and he can't now. But I did back then and I will again right now" and I would do one of the most severe - yet most symbolic - acts you can do to another human being - I would simply spit on him and walk away. Immature? No, most certainly not - I was there, I lived it.
Now that I have revealed one of the truths of my real life existence, I can tell you right now, there will be some naysayers who will come out against me, or even people who will demonstrate the gall to say "You're making this up!" If after reading everything I have just said, if anyone out there feels that way about me, or even has the slightest nerve to insinuate such a heinous lie I have only this to say - thank God, thank the Universe, thank whatever you believe in that you are implying such unjustifiable slander from beind the safety of a mere computer screen. No one on this entire planet will ever again defame my deceased lover's name, nor mine, ever ever again. I mean it. Cause I'm not some scared, defenseless near-23 year old kid anymore, I've grown up. But I haven't forgotten.
Retribution is a very important word because it's meaning has so many different, varying degrees. This posting is a perfect example of that. Why? Because I've done it - by sitting in front of this computer screen and telling you the reader, whoever and wherever you are, you now not only know the full truth, but you know my truth. I have achieved retribution. And no one on this earth, ever again, will take that away from me. Throw any mud you want because it's just gonna roll off my back and you wanna know why? Because today I have cleansed my soul and guess what? It feels damn near spectacular! So much so that I wish I could share with all of you even a half of an ounce of the sense of the relief I am experiencing this very moment. Consequences and fallout are words meant to scare people and why in Heavens should I be scared? I told the truth - and that my friends, can truly set you free. I'd like to close now...
My name is HivSpice and my deceased lover who died of AIDS in October, 1989, was one of the many trial lawyers who did the best he could and his damnest to make certain that justice was served for the murders of both Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone, as well as making certain that Dan White was put into jail. This is his legacy and please make no mistakes, I will honor it and I will defend it, you can depend on that. Thank you for reading.
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2010. Show all posts
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Retribution - (Part 1) Sun., June 13, 2010
It's strictly coincidental that I originally began writing this piece on the opening day of Boston's 2010 Pride festival. I've been debating about it left-n-right for almost 2 months now. A few people have told me "Don't do it, keep your mystique intact, you want people to keep reading." True, I do want people to keep reading my blog; but, by the same token, this blog is for me, it's very theraputic for me. Hopefully folks will be interested enough to keep on reading but hell, with every other Tom/Tamia, Dick/Delia and Harry/Harriet on the internet creating their own blog, well, it's understandable why and how folks lose touch with it. I have no hard feelings towards anyone who stops reading this blog, I only wish those folks well and hope that my experiences may have in some small way helped on their lifepaths.
No one has ever told me to reveal anything that I didn't want to. The best advice I have ever received from anyone was from an actual blog follower, Ramone. He said to just be myself and fuck what everyone else thinks. And he's right. I don't know how this piece is gonna turn out and though I usually don't dedicate my postings to any particular individual, I'd like to say this - I don't know what's gonna happen, if anything, after I write this but Ramone, this one is for you and for keeping the faith in me, especially when I questioned it within myself. Thanks.
Oh and one other thing - I am in total and full control of my mental faculties as I write this posting. Unlike some folks, even when I'm in severe physical pain I cant stand that feeling of being constantly drugged up, I'd rather be alert and aware of what's going on around me and deal with some of the pain/discomfort than be in what I call a drug-induced stupor.
The current Harvey Milk Foundation that has been very visual in some of our Facebook newsfeeds is a commendable, extraordinary organization that is making both an undeniable difference as well as a positive contribution in the lives of the international LGBT community, as well as with us Hiv'ers. I could never emphasize this enough, point blank, they do damn good work.
But long ago, many years before this current Harvey Milk Foundation was even born, an attempt at creating an organization virtually identical to it went very awry. In April, 1988, in the South San Francisco Bay area, a few of the trial lawyers who worked on the George Moscone/Harvey Milk murder trial, as well as several local philanthrophists, newspaper reporters and private citizens held a private, informal meeting to discuss forming an organization that would champion the civil rights - more like basic human rights - of all Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered people. The key emphasis here is the word "all."
But the meeting was very tumultous at best, as well as a disaster unto its own right. The entire group of (what was thought or presumed at the time at least) intelligent, rational, open-minded, even compassionate, ladies and gentlemen could not agree on one single word - inclusive. And here's where all the contention began. Some of those present at that meeting stated that the word "Transgendered" should be included; but, in name only. Their argument - more like absurdity when I look back on it - was this - how can we champion the rights of everyone when certain contingents of our various peoples are considered "freaks?" Freaks? No human being is a freak (well, maybe some of the Republicans are). That wasn't the point then and it's not the point now. Lesson #1: God doesn't create garbage. Lesson #2: God don't like ugly. Lesson #3: Inclusive means you accept EVERYONE, not just certain people. Oh but it get's better...
When one of the lawyers, as well as his life partner, suggested including a division of the organization which would specifically handle the needs and welfare of members of the Hiv/AIDS community, they were voted down. In 1988 the AIDS epidemic worldwide was still very overwhelming to say the least - how could any single person from that group of a dozen-some people even think of excluding anyone with Hiv/AIDS especially when a few of the people present at that meeting, as well as their friends, lovers and even family members, were directly affected by this disease was (and still is) beyond my entire human comprehension of the universe. How could any such unfathomable, inhumane sentiment exist in a group of people that contained some of the Bay area's most influential LGBT people of that era? Even to this day, in June of 2010, I still cannot fathom the depths of their hypocrisy and lack of compassion for their fellow humankind. Though I never knew either gentlemen personally, from what I do know about them, both Harvey Milk himself, as well as Mayor Moscone, neither would ever have tolerated such intolerance, this I know in my heart to be sound and true.
One of the reporters who was present that day had the audacity to say directly to the
aforementioned trial lawyer and his partner "What are you two? A couple of whores to the AIDS crisis?" Yeah, can you believe it? A few of those present who were allegedly the Bay Area's gay and lesbian movers & shakers of their time just stood there and did nothing. The soundwaves and mortal shock of that one single statement felt like a deep knife-stab directly into the human soul, there is no other way on this earth to describe it. But, it did prove an old addage true, that I personally never experienced until that infamous meeting - you could have heard a pin drop. Before I tell you what was said in return, I forgot to mention to you that that particular trial lawyer at the time of that meeting was suffering from Pneumysistis Carinni and Shingles, just to name a couple of his then current ailments. And, was also on oxygen because he could barely breath. Just the kind of thing that someone whom was literally halfway-dead and fighting for his life needed to hear, don't you think?
The partner of the lawyer, barely 23 years old, stood up from his seat at the elegantly, polished, oval mahoghany table and said very calmly, very emphatically and very firmly, "You bastard. You're lower than an animal because an animal wouldn't do to their own kind what you've done to me and mine. As God as my witness from this day forward I pray that every single human being who passes you on the street vomits at the sight of your face, that children in strollers scream at the sight of your presence and that everything you touch turns into dirt." There were mild gasps and clearly audible murmurs during the exchange, the rustling of loose papers being shuffled into leather briefcases followed by the laywer motioning to his partner that it was time to go. And that's exactly what they did, together, with dignity, they got up and walked out.
I still remember what the two were wearing that day...the lawyer with his light blue oxford shirt, navy blue sweater, beige Dockers, mahoghany penny loafers, thinning, semi-wavy, dark brown hair, green eyes that you could've sworn were personally created by some emerald miner, they truly shined through it all, they really did; and, that damned oxygen tank he carried around. I can still hear him saying in a low hush when his partner inquired "It's okay Honey, it's just part of my outfit." And the partner...I remember him very clearly too...a white Izod jersey shirt, navy blue Dockers, brand new shiny black penny loafers...and blonde hair, shoulder-length, not toe-head, not yellow-blonde, but the most complimentary hue between the two...and blue eyes that more than once saw the words mouthed "You wonder why I fell in love with you? It's those baby blues Honey, every single time, it's those baby blues." I remember.
Originally I didn't think this piece would be longer than one posting, but how could it not be? In telling their story, I am also telling mine. Thank you for reading.
No one has ever told me to reveal anything that I didn't want to. The best advice I have ever received from anyone was from an actual blog follower, Ramone. He said to just be myself and fuck what everyone else thinks. And he's right. I don't know how this piece is gonna turn out and though I usually don't dedicate my postings to any particular individual, I'd like to say this - I don't know what's gonna happen, if anything, after I write this but Ramone, this one is for you and for keeping the faith in me, especially when I questioned it within myself. Thanks.
Oh and one other thing - I am in total and full control of my mental faculties as I write this posting. Unlike some folks, even when I'm in severe physical pain I cant stand that feeling of being constantly drugged up, I'd rather be alert and aware of what's going on around me and deal with some of the pain/discomfort than be in what I call a drug-induced stupor.
The current Harvey Milk Foundation that has been very visual in some of our Facebook newsfeeds is a commendable, extraordinary organization that is making both an undeniable difference as well as a positive contribution in the lives of the international LGBT community, as well as with us Hiv'ers. I could never emphasize this enough, point blank, they do damn good work.
But long ago, many years before this current Harvey Milk Foundation was even born, an attempt at creating an organization virtually identical to it went very awry. In April, 1988, in the South San Francisco Bay area, a few of the trial lawyers who worked on the George Moscone/Harvey Milk murder trial, as well as several local philanthrophists, newspaper reporters and private citizens held a private, informal meeting to discuss forming an organization that would champion the civil rights - more like basic human rights - of all Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered people. The key emphasis here is the word "all."
But the meeting was very tumultous at best, as well as a disaster unto its own right. The entire group of (what was thought or presumed at the time at least) intelligent, rational, open-minded, even compassionate, ladies and gentlemen could not agree on one single word - inclusive. And here's where all the contention began. Some of those present at that meeting stated that the word "Transgendered" should be included; but, in name only. Their argument - more like absurdity when I look back on it - was this - how can we champion the rights of everyone when certain contingents of our various peoples are considered "freaks?" Freaks? No human being is a freak (well, maybe some of the Republicans are). That wasn't the point then and it's not the point now. Lesson #1: God doesn't create garbage. Lesson #2: God don't like ugly. Lesson #3: Inclusive means you accept EVERYONE, not just certain people. Oh but it get's better...
When one of the lawyers, as well as his life partner, suggested including a division of the organization which would specifically handle the needs and welfare of members of the Hiv/AIDS community, they were voted down. In 1988 the AIDS epidemic worldwide was still very overwhelming to say the least - how could any single person from that group of a dozen-some people even think of excluding anyone with Hiv/AIDS especially when a few of the people present at that meeting, as well as their friends, lovers and even family members, were directly affected by this disease was (and still is) beyond my entire human comprehension of the universe. How could any such unfathomable, inhumane sentiment exist in a group of people that contained some of the Bay area's most influential LGBT people of that era? Even to this day, in June of 2010, I still cannot fathom the depths of their hypocrisy and lack of compassion for their fellow humankind. Though I never knew either gentlemen personally, from what I do know about them, both Harvey Milk himself, as well as Mayor Moscone, neither would ever have tolerated such intolerance, this I know in my heart to be sound and true.
One of the reporters who was present that day had the audacity to say directly to the
aforementioned trial lawyer and his partner "What are you two? A couple of whores to the AIDS crisis?" Yeah, can you believe it? A few of those present who were allegedly the Bay Area's gay and lesbian movers & shakers of their time just stood there and did nothing. The soundwaves and mortal shock of that one single statement felt like a deep knife-stab directly into the human soul, there is no other way on this earth to describe it. But, it did prove an old addage true, that I personally never experienced until that infamous meeting - you could have heard a pin drop. Before I tell you what was said in return, I forgot to mention to you that that particular trial lawyer at the time of that meeting was suffering from Pneumysistis Carinni and Shingles, just to name a couple of his then current ailments. And, was also on oxygen because he could barely breath. Just the kind of thing that someone whom was literally halfway-dead and fighting for his life needed to hear, don't you think?
The partner of the lawyer, barely 23 years old, stood up from his seat at the elegantly, polished, oval mahoghany table and said very calmly, very emphatically and very firmly, "You bastard. You're lower than an animal because an animal wouldn't do to their own kind what you've done to me and mine. As God as my witness from this day forward I pray that every single human being who passes you on the street vomits at the sight of your face, that children in strollers scream at the sight of your presence and that everything you touch turns into dirt." There were mild gasps and clearly audible murmurs during the exchange, the rustling of loose papers being shuffled into leather briefcases followed by the laywer motioning to his partner that it was time to go. And that's exactly what they did, together, with dignity, they got up and walked out.
I still remember what the two were wearing that day...the lawyer with his light blue oxford shirt, navy blue sweater, beige Dockers, mahoghany penny loafers, thinning, semi-wavy, dark brown hair, green eyes that you could've sworn were personally created by some emerald miner, they truly shined through it all, they really did; and, that damned oxygen tank he carried around. I can still hear him saying in a low hush when his partner inquired "It's okay Honey, it's just part of my outfit." And the partner...I remember him very clearly too...a white Izod jersey shirt, navy blue Dockers, brand new shiny black penny loafers...and blonde hair, shoulder-length, not toe-head, not yellow-blonde, but the most complimentary hue between the two...and blue eyes that more than once saw the words mouthed "You wonder why I fell in love with you? It's those baby blues Honey, every single time, it's those baby blues." I remember.
Originally I didn't think this piece would be longer than one posting, but how could it not be? In telling their story, I am also telling mine. Thank you for reading.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Post-Surgery Post (Say Fast 5 Times In A Row!) - Friday, June 11, 2010
I did it. I made it through!!! My surgery was a success and though the pain is extremely intense and irritating a good amount of the time, I am so thankful to God and the Universe that I am here, this very moment writing in this blog! Before I go any further, I'd like to personally thank all the people who sent me good wishes during this very intense situation in my life and to let each and every one of you know that your moral support was greatly appreciated. I have been extremely blessed in that regard and I can't thank you all enough.
A special note of thanks to my cousin Darrell in Seattle for taking care of my messages for me, I can't thank you enough for you are more than a relative, you are my friend. I know it musta been somewhat awkward (to say the least!) for you to talk to people you didn't even know about my medical stuff and I appreciate both your sensitivity and dedication in keeping my friends updated.
In addition to my surgery being a great success (yes!!!), my hospital stay was quite nice. In that regard, I'm gonna break my own rule and openly give credit where it is due - kudos and hats off to Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital! Oh my God, everyone there was so kind and so supportive and the staff, was phenomenal! Downtown Boston is home to a TON of some of the finest medical establishments on this planet but Beth Israel Deaconess shines like a diamond when it comes to first-rate quality patient care, I cannot emphasize that enough.
How was my hospital stay? As wonderful as the surgeon, the nurses, and entire staff was to me, I gotta be honest guys, I was bored most of the time! Actually, my friend Percocet has been with me a lot of the time! From Tuesday afternoon when they wheeled me out of recovery and put me in ICU (guess I hadda irregular heartbeat towards the last half hour of surgery but you coulda fooled me, as out of it as I was) most of my stay was spent sleeping off-and-on. But they kept me very comfortable and I really can't complain.
It's funny, I haven't even begun to heal yet and already I have an insatiable drive to do so many things right this moment! The 1st thing I wanna do once I heal more and can walk normal - I wanna go get my mail and then run up the front stoop like everyone else does, really super fast without even thinking twice, just like everyone else does day-in and day-out. I wanna dance. I want to dance to Alicia Key's remake of Blondie's "Rapture" hopefully before the summer ends and it is considered an "old song." I wanna go to places like the Natick Mall or the Burlington Mall (hell, both of them!) and just walk and look in every single store window, like so many people do and stop and have a cup of coffee and just breath. I wanna get back into walking for exercise but not the old lame 3 times a week, 20 minutes a day - I wanna do what Gwen Stefani does - walk non-stop for 1 hour per day and sweat as much as possible, great for both daily toning and shedding too.
And then the bigger things. Getta second job to off-set my cut hours at my current job. Travel, when time and money allows (isn't that always the case for us everyday Hiv'ers/everyday folks?) I really should go see my cousin in Florida but I wanna be selfish. This is stream-of-consciousness taking place, but damn, it feels good, it feels so fucken good to be alive, with two normal legs! My selfish travel priorities, doesn't matter which one I do first - I must finally make it to Philadelphia - they say my beloved UNITED STATES is still docked there, and I must go see her, to pay homage to her. People have said there is a giant IKEA store down there (twice the fun, I know!) and that you can see her docked on the opposite side of the highway/roadway. There's an organization fighting to preserve her (as they justly should)and I just pray they keep her preserved and safe long enough for me to get there and look at her, take pictures, and just savor gazing up at her. Totally corny, isn't it?
Oh Canada, I can't wait to visit you, so much to see and do there. I wanna look up at Toronto's skycrapers at nighttime and say something really fucken corny like, "Well Toronto, there's a new Spice in town and it aint that slut Rosemary or her sleazy sister Marjoram!" So much I want to experience and learn about that country. First, I need to check out all the Hiv/AIDS organizations (both major and minor) and see what direction they all are headed in. Second, I need to find out firsthand why the Canadians are just as oblivous as well as unappreciative of their country's vast, rich maritime history as the Americans are towards theirs. I've never said anything bad about Canada but please mark that one down because they are almost as bad as the Americans when it comes to that. Why do you know that most of them don't even know of the EMPRESS OF BRITAIN (1931)? That's blasphemy. Why that's like being French and never knowing of the NORMANDIE or being British and not knowing of the QUEEN MARY.
And Friends. Above everything else, both in Canada and here in America, there are so many new friends that I wanna get to meet! I wanna be able to walk off the plane/bus, walk up to them - with two normal legs(!!!) and hug them and tell them how damn happy I am to FINALLY meet them! Ah, walking normal, back to reality...
It's not gonna be easy - I think I have about a good week or so at home just healing before they even start me on physical theray. I'll know more after my follow-up appointment with my surgeon and regular doctors next week. I am hoping to be walking normal in less than a month, but maybe because I'm so excited about all of this! My body's entire equilibrium has been off-kilter for more than a year - it's gonna take time for it to stabalize and it will. They've already warned me that the first few times I stand up and attempt to walk with both feet I will get extremely woozy, maybe even come close to passing out, but that it will get better each day. It has to and it will because I haven't come this far for nothing.
Oh my, I did another epistle didnt I? Oh well, for being non-existent the last few days, I have more than earned it. It's great to be back. And as always, thank you for reading :)
A special note of thanks to my cousin Darrell in Seattle for taking care of my messages for me, I can't thank you enough for you are more than a relative, you are my friend. I know it musta been somewhat awkward (to say the least!) for you to talk to people you didn't even know about my medical stuff and I appreciate both your sensitivity and dedication in keeping my friends updated.
In addition to my surgery being a great success (yes!!!), my hospital stay was quite nice. In that regard, I'm gonna break my own rule and openly give credit where it is due - kudos and hats off to Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital! Oh my God, everyone there was so kind and so supportive and the staff, was phenomenal! Downtown Boston is home to a TON of some of the finest medical establishments on this planet but Beth Israel Deaconess shines like a diamond when it comes to first-rate quality patient care, I cannot emphasize that enough.
How was my hospital stay? As wonderful as the surgeon, the nurses, and entire staff was to me, I gotta be honest guys, I was bored most of the time! Actually, my friend Percocet has been with me a lot of the time! From Tuesday afternoon when they wheeled me out of recovery and put me in ICU (guess I hadda irregular heartbeat towards the last half hour of surgery but you coulda fooled me, as out of it as I was) most of my stay was spent sleeping off-and-on. But they kept me very comfortable and I really can't complain.
It's funny, I haven't even begun to heal yet and already I have an insatiable drive to do so many things right this moment! The 1st thing I wanna do once I heal more and can walk normal - I wanna go get my mail and then run up the front stoop like everyone else does, really super fast without even thinking twice, just like everyone else does day-in and day-out. I wanna dance. I want to dance to Alicia Key's remake of Blondie's "Rapture" hopefully before the summer ends and it is considered an "old song." I wanna go to places like the Natick Mall or the Burlington Mall (hell, both of them!) and just walk and look in every single store window, like so many people do and stop and have a cup of coffee and just breath. I wanna get back into walking for exercise but not the old lame 3 times a week, 20 minutes a day - I wanna do what Gwen Stefani does - walk non-stop for 1 hour per day and sweat as much as possible, great for both daily toning and shedding too.
And then the bigger things. Getta second job to off-set my cut hours at my current job. Travel, when time and money allows (isn't that always the case for us everyday Hiv'ers/everyday folks?) I really should go see my cousin in Florida but I wanna be selfish. This is stream-of-consciousness taking place, but damn, it feels good, it feels so fucken good to be alive, with two normal legs! My selfish travel priorities, doesn't matter which one I do first - I must finally make it to Philadelphia - they say my beloved UNITED STATES is still docked there, and I must go see her, to pay homage to her. People have said there is a giant IKEA store down there (twice the fun, I know!) and that you can see her docked on the opposite side of the highway/roadway. There's an organization fighting to preserve her (as they justly should)and I just pray they keep her preserved and safe long enough for me to get there and look at her, take pictures, and just savor gazing up at her. Totally corny, isn't it?
Oh Canada, I can't wait to visit you, so much to see and do there. I wanna look up at Toronto's skycrapers at nighttime and say something really fucken corny like, "Well Toronto, there's a new Spice in town and it aint that slut Rosemary or her sleazy sister Marjoram!" So much I want to experience and learn about that country. First, I need to check out all the Hiv/AIDS organizations (both major and minor) and see what direction they all are headed in. Second, I need to find out firsthand why the Canadians are just as oblivous as well as unappreciative of their country's vast, rich maritime history as the Americans are towards theirs. I've never said anything bad about Canada but please mark that one down because they are almost as bad as the Americans when it comes to that. Why do you know that most of them don't even know of the EMPRESS OF BRITAIN (1931)? That's blasphemy. Why that's like being French and never knowing of the NORMANDIE or being British and not knowing of the QUEEN MARY.
And Friends. Above everything else, both in Canada and here in America, there are so many new friends that I wanna get to meet! I wanna be able to walk off the plane/bus, walk up to them - with two normal legs(!!!) and hug them and tell them how damn happy I am to FINALLY meet them! Ah, walking normal, back to reality...
It's not gonna be easy - I think I have about a good week or so at home just healing before they even start me on physical theray. I'll know more after my follow-up appointment with my surgeon and regular doctors next week. I am hoping to be walking normal in less than a month, but maybe because I'm so excited about all of this! My body's entire equilibrium has been off-kilter for more than a year - it's gonna take time for it to stabalize and it will. They've already warned me that the first few times I stand up and attempt to walk with both feet I will get extremely woozy, maybe even come close to passing out, but that it will get better each day. It has to and it will because I haven't come this far for nothing.
Oh my, I did another epistle didnt I? Oh well, for being non-existent the last few days, I have more than earned it. It's great to be back. And as always, thank you for reading :)
Monday, June 7, 2010
Pre-Surgery Post - Monday. June 7, 2010
I wasn't even sure whether or not I was going to write in my blog tonight because when I get hyper-nervous about anything I can't think straight, I can't eat or drink much and I literally toss my cookies off-n-on for a 24 to 48 hour period before I deal with and/or confront whatever the hell is making me nervous.
Originally I was gonna write about the first time I met my deceased partner Jack but when I talk about him, I want it to be coming from the bottom of my heart, not the bottom of my stomach. I wish he were here right now, he always did know how to soothe me and calm me down; but, I know he's here in spirit and that's all that matters.
In March, 2009, I had to have a tumor removed from my inner, upper, right thigh area. The doctors weren't sure if it was cancerous or perhaps an infected lypoma. A lypoma is literally a mass or ball of fatty tissue that has unexplainably formed in whatever area(s) of your body, it can be as small as an America quarter or as large as a medium-sized California grapefruit. Naturally, in my case, it was the latter! You don't have to be a certain age, suffering from a certain disease, fat, skinny, short, tall, like with Hiv, lypomas do not discriminate on any of those factors.
So it was removed and thank God it wasn't cancerous - yes! But, the bad thing about it was that it was much larger than they thought and they could not extract it totally without causing permanent damage to my leg muscles in my right leg. Soooo, they decided it would be best to wait a year, perhaps longer, to go back into the area and remove the rest.
And, that is what they are doing tomorrow morning at 9 a.m., EST, to me. I know I shouldnt be nervous but any type of surgery makes me damned nervous, even one that I've had before. Why? Because any time I go under anesthesia I think back to my cancer period where I literally lost 4 months of my life. I dont want to ever ever go through something like that in my life ever again, God willing. I know the last leg surgery was fine and it was a huge success, thank goodness it was; but, this is my body and I have every right to feel the way I do about the process I will be going through tomorrow morning, just as we all do.
And that's something everyone needs to keep in mind - doesnt matter how large or how small a surgery it is, or even what kind it is, when your body is being surgically operated on you have the right to be concerned about it and react to it any way you damn well please. Don't ever let anyone belittle or demean what you are going through because as a human being you have every right to feel the way you do.
Why is this surgery so important? Because for the least year I have not been able to walk normal, exercise normal, do nothing normal with my right leg like most people can do. I have had to walk with a permanent limp in my right leg, and on bad days, even with a cane. 44 years old and walking with a fucking cane, yep, that's my idea of the Golden Years! Once this surgery is done, I will be able to walk normal again - exercise normal again - and, even better, not only do all the things that normal people with normal legs do but I will be able to rebuild my body again and restore it back to what it was before all this crazy leg surgey crap began over a year ago.
So there you have it, the full story. I will be in the hospital for 2 to 3 days afterwards. When I finally return home I will begin what will hopefully be no more than a 4 to 6 week rehab period. Yeah, it will be a major bitch at first to get around but you all don't know how much I am looking forward to being able to walk normal again. It's gonna be great.
While I'm gone, my cousin Darrell will be handling the reigns of HivSpice. No, nothing melodramatic, I have always wanted to use that phrase "the reigns of HivSpice!" Sounds kinda kick-ass doesnt it? lol...seriously though, all that means is that he will be taking care of any messages that are sent to my Facebook account - the notifications, my beloved blog, invitations to various events, that all will have to wait until I return.
One last thing. Even though the visiting nurses association will be coming to check up on me after the surgery, I am doing this totally on my own. My family who lives out-of-state, hate to say this and maybe I will write about it someday, only comes to Boston when I am near death. And that's the truth. I'm not seeking attention or invoking pity by telling you all of this, but I just want to let others know that if you ever have to go through what I will be going through tomorrow by yourself, don't tell yourself you can't handle it because you can. I know you can. This is just one of those "things-we-hate-to-do-but-you-gotta-do-it-anyways" things in life, it really is. Oh yeah, don't get me wrong, who wants to deal with this kinda stuff alone? No one, not me, but you'd be surprised how tough your inner spirit is.
I'm gonna miss you all - I mean that sincerely. Now take good care of yourselves and know I am proud and honored to know or know of every one of you. Talk to you soon.
Originally I was gonna write about the first time I met my deceased partner Jack but when I talk about him, I want it to be coming from the bottom of my heart, not the bottom of my stomach. I wish he were here right now, he always did know how to soothe me and calm me down; but, I know he's here in spirit and that's all that matters.
In March, 2009, I had to have a tumor removed from my inner, upper, right thigh area. The doctors weren't sure if it was cancerous or perhaps an infected lypoma. A lypoma is literally a mass or ball of fatty tissue that has unexplainably formed in whatever area(s) of your body, it can be as small as an America quarter or as large as a medium-sized California grapefruit. Naturally, in my case, it was the latter! You don't have to be a certain age, suffering from a certain disease, fat, skinny, short, tall, like with Hiv, lypomas do not discriminate on any of those factors.
So it was removed and thank God it wasn't cancerous - yes! But, the bad thing about it was that it was much larger than they thought and they could not extract it totally without causing permanent damage to my leg muscles in my right leg. Soooo, they decided it would be best to wait a year, perhaps longer, to go back into the area and remove the rest.
And, that is what they are doing tomorrow morning at 9 a.m., EST, to me. I know I shouldnt be nervous but any type of surgery makes me damned nervous, even one that I've had before. Why? Because any time I go under anesthesia I think back to my cancer period where I literally lost 4 months of my life. I dont want to ever ever go through something like that in my life ever again, God willing. I know the last leg surgery was fine and it was a huge success, thank goodness it was; but, this is my body and I have every right to feel the way I do about the process I will be going through tomorrow morning, just as we all do.
And that's something everyone needs to keep in mind - doesnt matter how large or how small a surgery it is, or even what kind it is, when your body is being surgically operated on you have the right to be concerned about it and react to it any way you damn well please. Don't ever let anyone belittle or demean what you are going through because as a human being you have every right to feel the way you do.
Why is this surgery so important? Because for the least year I have not been able to walk normal, exercise normal, do nothing normal with my right leg like most people can do. I have had to walk with a permanent limp in my right leg, and on bad days, even with a cane. 44 years old and walking with a fucking cane, yep, that's my idea of the Golden Years! Once this surgery is done, I will be able to walk normal again - exercise normal again - and, even better, not only do all the things that normal people with normal legs do but I will be able to rebuild my body again and restore it back to what it was before all this crazy leg surgey crap began over a year ago.
So there you have it, the full story. I will be in the hospital for 2 to 3 days afterwards. When I finally return home I will begin what will hopefully be no more than a 4 to 6 week rehab period. Yeah, it will be a major bitch at first to get around but you all don't know how much I am looking forward to being able to walk normal again. It's gonna be great.
While I'm gone, my cousin Darrell will be handling the reigns of HivSpice. No, nothing melodramatic, I have always wanted to use that phrase "the reigns of HivSpice!" Sounds kinda kick-ass doesnt it? lol...seriously though, all that means is that he will be taking care of any messages that are sent to my Facebook account - the notifications, my beloved blog, invitations to various events, that all will have to wait until I return.
One last thing. Even though the visiting nurses association will be coming to check up on me after the surgery, I am doing this totally on my own. My family who lives out-of-state, hate to say this and maybe I will write about it someday, only comes to Boston when I am near death. And that's the truth. I'm not seeking attention or invoking pity by telling you all of this, but I just want to let others know that if you ever have to go through what I will be going through tomorrow by yourself, don't tell yourself you can't handle it because you can. I know you can. This is just one of those "things-we-hate-to-do-but-you-gotta-do-it-anyways" things in life, it really is. Oh yeah, don't get me wrong, who wants to deal with this kinda stuff alone? No one, not me, but you'd be surprised how tough your inner spirit is.
I'm gonna miss you all - I mean that sincerely. Now take good care of yourselves and know I am proud and honored to know or know of every one of you. Talk to you soon.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
On Organized Religion - Sunday, June 6, 2010
This subject is a hotbed for any member of the LGBT community as well as Hiv+ community as well as..shit, everyone on the entire goddamn planet! How fitting that I chose to write it on a Sunday afternoon. A little sidenote before I get started.
I've noticed something about my writing - I'm not letting my HIV+ status affect it one iota; but, the real kicker is that I'm not doing it on purpose, it truly is happening all by itself. The majority of my experiences written in this blogspace do connect, even if indirectly, to my existence as an Hiv'er; but, not every single piece does and that's okay with me. I'm just going with the flow folks.
My problems with the organized religions of the world? I am fed up with people using the Bible as a means to justify hatred and castigation of one's fellow man. I read the entire Bible from stem to stern when I was 33 years old because I wanted to get the full gest of the bullshit that members of the LGBT community, as well as us Hiv'ers, are automatically going to hell because of their sexual orientation, or the Biblical version of that which is "perverse, sinful lifestyle" which by the way is nowhere mentioned in that book - those terms are NOT mentioned anywhere in that book, are we clear on this?
Yes, there are one or possibly two mentions of laws against "one man laying down with another man"; however, those "laws" were written during a history timeline when people didnt even know how to articulate what the hell homosexuality/lesbianism was to begin with. In addition to that, just as with everything else in the Bible, its writings are all based on PERSONAL INTERPRETATION. Do you know how many times that book has been interpreted since before the original Dead Sea scrolls were found? Exactly 5,972 times. No shit. It does not take an English major, nor a Theology major, nor even a friggin Rocket Scientist to realize that after that many translations, guess what? You answered right - there is gonna be more than one component "mistranslated"; in other words, "misunderstood."
The most recent discovery of the NEW Dead Sea scrolls revealed that they were written in Aramaic. Hmmm. Isnt that interesting? Did you know that Jesus spoke and wrote in Aramaic regularly? And that the first part of the Bible was written hundreds, if not thousands, of years BEFORE Jesus was even born? Kinda funny isn't it that these organized religions claim their actions are dictated directly via the Bible yet when asked about the Bible's timeline and its major inconsistences they trip over each other to emphatically state "Oh well, you gotta have faith." I believe in having faith too, but that doesnt mean the next time I do a Cucumber & Honey mask my face is automatically gonna look like Hedy Lamar's when I am finished, does it?
Am I the only person on the planet who finds it somewhat suspicious that every organized religion on the planet literally states that there is God, the Father, God, the Son and God, the Holy Spirit? Uhm, what about God, the Mother and God, the Kid Sister Named Trixie? I do believe in God and I do believe in Jesus (my Jewish friends would disagree but that's okay, we all have the right to believe what we choose) and even the Holy Spirit; but, here's where I have the problem.
Rather than state it, I'm gonna do a literary no-no and state it in question format - don't any of you find it extremely suspicious that everywhere in both biology and even history, every life form on the planet (with the exception of those creatures that are asexual such as the common earthworm) has had to have both a Male and Female counterpart to reproduce, yet that rule allegedly does not apply to the Bible? I'm not going to leave this to faith, sorry. Even in the book of Genesis it states that nobody popped out of anyone's crotch until Adam and Eve were created. So in essence, we're talking about a literal contradition aren't we?
This piece wasnt originally suppose to be about theology so let's get down to more specific real problems of the subject. The religions of the world need to stop preaching that it's acceptable to use the Bible as a means to not use your brain and your heart when it comes to making decisions. God gave us brains to use, not to be brainwashed by a book so old and so mistranslated that when you literally read in-between the lines, it is a very very immoral history book. I'm serious, this one and that one screwing 746 wives and having 1,780 children and 3,765 grandchildren - sorry Sparky, the world just doesn't work that way. When anyone uses the Bible as means to not think and to not have compassion and acceptance for your fellow human beings you not only hurt innocent people but you end up hurting yourself too, as well as spreading much unecessary hatred and contempt all over the planet.
And oh my God, this bullshit that all the problems of the universe are to be blamed on the Female race really really rubs my rhubarb the wrong way. I have never heard such a crock of purely unadulteratd bullshit in my entire existence. Has anyone ever thought, maybe for just one second, that Eve actually got bored in that garden and wanted to get out and develop her personality? No place to shop, no place to have a pedicure, no place to have a Dunkin Donuts coffee - why if I was her I woulda been ripping the bark off the Tree of Good-n-Evil, not just grabbing an apple or two off of it. I'm not kidding. Personally, I think that entire story was written by some assinine, chauvanistic pig who wasn't getting any at home and wanted to take his rage out on the rest of the world. And for those of you who think God is gonna damn me for saying any of this, sorry guys, you're a bit too late to register any goodhearted concern whatsoever.
Another problem I have with organized religion. I think it is extremely wrong for any parents to force religion down their childrens throats. Growing up, I was raised a Lutheran (oh that single word is a post unto itself) and every Sunday like clockwork, I "had" to go to church because it was the right thing to do. Oh yeah? Tell that to a small child who less than 5 minutes after entering the church, like clockwork every Sunday, started shaking and vomiting uncontrollably. I'm not shitting you, you all thought the pea-soup scene in "The Exorcist" was gross? Ha, only if you coulda seen me. And every time a church official or a doctor or therapist told my parents "Look, there is a problem here, you need to remove your child from the church and examine the situation" all my parents said in rebuttal was "Well, that's just the fear of God pushing the sin out of him, it's good for him."
Thank God I had grandparents that intervened when I turned 8 years old and said "You've gotta stop doing that to that kid, you're letting your religion get in the way of being good parents." My grandparents always minded their own business when it came to our family but, when it involved us grandkids, it was best to just back down from them, especially my Grandma. I think some of it had to do with the fact that after my brother died my Grandma became fiercely protective of me. Once again, thank God she made a stance and stood her ground. I never hadda normal family life with being a military brat anyways but that is another post...lol.
What do I think it was that caused me to get so physically ill in church? I've already figured it out yet I dont know how to explain it to any of you in any terms but these - some people just were not meant to be churchgoers and I am one of them. A more psychologically logical answer you prefer? When a small child is in an enclosed space such as a church and has some preacher yelling quite loudly "If you do not repent of your sins, you will be going to Hell!!! There is going to be a price to pay and you will pay it with your soul for all your nasty sins!!" it does something to their psyche, something very terrible, something very dark. Basically I think what happened is that as a small child I didnt know how to verbalize my fears of what I was experiencing so I internalized it and my inner consciousness rejected it in the form of hurling my guts out. I'm no Dr. Spock, but that's my educated guess.
I wont speak for my friends in Canada and the rest of the world on this one but I will speak for America on this one - our country has enough problems as it is right now without having the words "You are a SINNER!!!" being constantly pounded into their lives. We have joblessness, our crime rates are up, people are murdering their children left-n-right and then on top of it we need some big-mouthed fuckhead telling us every Sunday "And remember, in spite of everything you are a SINNER on TOP OF IT ALL!" Sorry, the American people have enough to deal with as it is, they do not need anymore negative, psychologically dentrimental garbage being jammed in their faces and down their throats than they already do. It's not only wrong, it defies the purpose of what real religion is suppose to really be - taking care of both yourself and your fellow human beings as well as the world you live in.
This next point is for all my white wiccan and pagan friends. In the movie "Orca" (1978 or '79?) the character played by Charlotte Rampling states that the brain of a Killer Whale contains - I'm not sure what the number was - either thousands or millions more pieces of seperate, intricate pieces of information than the Bible itself. If that is indeed true, and not just some movie line, it makes one ask which makes more sense - adhering to the principles of a religion based on an ancient misunderstood, mistranslated man-made book like the Bible or joining one of the many nature religions that exist in the world? Remember, just because something is man-made does not mean that it was spiritually inspired.
In closing, I realize that there are many people who receive great spiritual comfort from belonging to a religion of their choice, as well as attending church every Sunday. If you are in this group I'm very happy for you, I truly am because it means that that is making a positive difference in your lives and that is wonderful. And I'm not saying that you cant be celebratory or even gung-ho about your religion either. What I am saying is that for those of us who dont have the same experiences or feelings as you do, please don't be so quick to judge. Everything that happens in this world happens for a reason and the world religions are no exception to this universal rule. On that you can truly have faith in. Thank you for reading.
I've noticed something about my writing - I'm not letting my HIV+ status affect it one iota; but, the real kicker is that I'm not doing it on purpose, it truly is happening all by itself. The majority of my experiences written in this blogspace do connect, even if indirectly, to my existence as an Hiv'er; but, not every single piece does and that's okay with me. I'm just going with the flow folks.
My problems with the organized religions of the world? I am fed up with people using the Bible as a means to justify hatred and castigation of one's fellow man. I read the entire Bible from stem to stern when I was 33 years old because I wanted to get the full gest of the bullshit that members of the LGBT community, as well as us Hiv'ers, are automatically going to hell because of their sexual orientation, or the Biblical version of that which is "perverse, sinful lifestyle" which by the way is nowhere mentioned in that book - those terms are NOT mentioned anywhere in that book, are we clear on this?
Yes, there are one or possibly two mentions of laws against "one man laying down with another man"; however, those "laws" were written during a history timeline when people didnt even know how to articulate what the hell homosexuality/lesbianism was to begin with. In addition to that, just as with everything else in the Bible, its writings are all based on PERSONAL INTERPRETATION. Do you know how many times that book has been interpreted since before the original Dead Sea scrolls were found? Exactly 5,972 times. No shit. It does not take an English major, nor a Theology major, nor even a friggin Rocket Scientist to realize that after that many translations, guess what? You answered right - there is gonna be more than one component "mistranslated"; in other words, "misunderstood."
The most recent discovery of the NEW Dead Sea scrolls revealed that they were written in Aramaic. Hmmm. Isnt that interesting? Did you know that Jesus spoke and wrote in Aramaic regularly? And that the first part of the Bible was written hundreds, if not thousands, of years BEFORE Jesus was even born? Kinda funny isn't it that these organized religions claim their actions are dictated directly via the Bible yet when asked about the Bible's timeline and its major inconsistences they trip over each other to emphatically state "Oh well, you gotta have faith." I believe in having faith too, but that doesnt mean the next time I do a Cucumber & Honey mask my face is automatically gonna look like Hedy Lamar's when I am finished, does it?
Am I the only person on the planet who finds it somewhat suspicious that every organized religion on the planet literally states that there is God, the Father, God, the Son and God, the Holy Spirit? Uhm, what about God, the Mother and God, the Kid Sister Named Trixie? I do believe in God and I do believe in Jesus (my Jewish friends would disagree but that's okay, we all have the right to believe what we choose) and even the Holy Spirit; but, here's where I have the problem.
Rather than state it, I'm gonna do a literary no-no and state it in question format - don't any of you find it extremely suspicious that everywhere in both biology and even history, every life form on the planet (with the exception of those creatures that are asexual such as the common earthworm) has had to have both a Male and Female counterpart to reproduce, yet that rule allegedly does not apply to the Bible? I'm not going to leave this to faith, sorry. Even in the book of Genesis it states that nobody popped out of anyone's crotch until Adam and Eve were created. So in essence, we're talking about a literal contradition aren't we?
This piece wasnt originally suppose to be about theology so let's get down to more specific real problems of the subject. The religions of the world need to stop preaching that it's acceptable to use the Bible as a means to not use your brain and your heart when it comes to making decisions. God gave us brains to use, not to be brainwashed by a book so old and so mistranslated that when you literally read in-between the lines, it is a very very immoral history book. I'm serious, this one and that one screwing 746 wives and having 1,780 children and 3,765 grandchildren - sorry Sparky, the world just doesn't work that way. When anyone uses the Bible as means to not think and to not have compassion and acceptance for your fellow human beings you not only hurt innocent people but you end up hurting yourself too, as well as spreading much unecessary hatred and contempt all over the planet.
And oh my God, this bullshit that all the problems of the universe are to be blamed on the Female race really really rubs my rhubarb the wrong way. I have never heard such a crock of purely unadulteratd bullshit in my entire existence. Has anyone ever thought, maybe for just one second, that Eve actually got bored in that garden and wanted to get out and develop her personality? No place to shop, no place to have a pedicure, no place to have a Dunkin Donuts coffee - why if I was her I woulda been ripping the bark off the Tree of Good-n-Evil, not just grabbing an apple or two off of it. I'm not kidding. Personally, I think that entire story was written by some assinine, chauvanistic pig who wasn't getting any at home and wanted to take his rage out on the rest of the world. And for those of you who think God is gonna damn me for saying any of this, sorry guys, you're a bit too late to register any goodhearted concern whatsoever.
Another problem I have with organized religion. I think it is extremely wrong for any parents to force religion down their childrens throats. Growing up, I was raised a Lutheran (oh that single word is a post unto itself) and every Sunday like clockwork, I "had" to go to church because it was the right thing to do. Oh yeah? Tell that to a small child who less than 5 minutes after entering the church, like clockwork every Sunday, started shaking and vomiting uncontrollably. I'm not shitting you, you all thought the pea-soup scene in "The Exorcist" was gross? Ha, only if you coulda seen me. And every time a church official or a doctor or therapist told my parents "Look, there is a problem here, you need to remove your child from the church and examine the situation" all my parents said in rebuttal was "Well, that's just the fear of God pushing the sin out of him, it's good for him."
Thank God I had grandparents that intervened when I turned 8 years old and said "You've gotta stop doing that to that kid, you're letting your religion get in the way of being good parents." My grandparents always minded their own business when it came to our family but, when it involved us grandkids, it was best to just back down from them, especially my Grandma. I think some of it had to do with the fact that after my brother died my Grandma became fiercely protective of me. Once again, thank God she made a stance and stood her ground. I never hadda normal family life with being a military brat anyways but that is another post...lol.
What do I think it was that caused me to get so physically ill in church? I've already figured it out yet I dont know how to explain it to any of you in any terms but these - some people just were not meant to be churchgoers and I am one of them. A more psychologically logical answer you prefer? When a small child is in an enclosed space such as a church and has some preacher yelling quite loudly "If you do not repent of your sins, you will be going to Hell!!! There is going to be a price to pay and you will pay it with your soul for all your nasty sins!!" it does something to their psyche, something very terrible, something very dark. Basically I think what happened is that as a small child I didnt know how to verbalize my fears of what I was experiencing so I internalized it and my inner consciousness rejected it in the form of hurling my guts out. I'm no Dr. Spock, but that's my educated guess.
I wont speak for my friends in Canada and the rest of the world on this one but I will speak for America on this one - our country has enough problems as it is right now without having the words "You are a SINNER!!!" being constantly pounded into their lives. We have joblessness, our crime rates are up, people are murdering their children left-n-right and then on top of it we need some big-mouthed fuckhead telling us every Sunday "And remember, in spite of everything you are a SINNER on TOP OF IT ALL!" Sorry, the American people have enough to deal with as it is, they do not need anymore negative, psychologically dentrimental garbage being jammed in their faces and down their throats than they already do. It's not only wrong, it defies the purpose of what real religion is suppose to really be - taking care of both yourself and your fellow human beings as well as the world you live in.
This next point is for all my white wiccan and pagan friends. In the movie "Orca" (1978 or '79?) the character played by Charlotte Rampling states that the brain of a Killer Whale contains - I'm not sure what the number was - either thousands or millions more pieces of seperate, intricate pieces of information than the Bible itself. If that is indeed true, and not just some movie line, it makes one ask which makes more sense - adhering to the principles of a religion based on an ancient misunderstood, mistranslated man-made book like the Bible or joining one of the many nature religions that exist in the world? Remember, just because something is man-made does not mean that it was spiritually inspired.
In closing, I realize that there are many people who receive great spiritual comfort from belonging to a religion of their choice, as well as attending church every Sunday. If you are in this group I'm very happy for you, I truly am because it means that that is making a positive difference in your lives and that is wonderful. And I'm not saying that you cant be celebratory or even gung-ho about your religion either. What I am saying is that for those of us who dont have the same experiences or feelings as you do, please don't be so quick to judge. Everything that happens in this world happens for a reason and the world religions are no exception to this universal rule. On that you can truly have faith in. Thank you for reading.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
On Canada - Saturday, June 5, 2010
Originally I was going to write a piece about revealing one of the few mysteries of my life but tonight, I wanna set that deep, personal stuff aside and turn my eyes due North to Canada. Actually, doing the original piece sort of ties in with Canada because the more I think of it, the more I can't get it off my mind.
For years now several of my acquaintances/friends from all over America have told me "Spice, you just gotta go there and check it out, you really do!" Oh I too think it's worth checking out but I never thought about it much beyond visiting. You all know that I despise the word/concept of alienation and I hope that this doesn't offend any of my fellow Americans but I have to be honest with myself - in the last couple of months that my prescence on Facebook has somewhat accelerated I've noticed that more and more of the people who have taken me in as a friend and/or confidante are not U.S. citizens - they're Canadian. And that tickles me to no end!
I've always thought the bullshit of people cracking jokes about Canada was just that - bullshit. I enjoy South Park too and I know every place on the planet gets made fun of in one way or another but Canada isn't some inferior territory that borders America like most comedians make it out to be.
One of the liberal elective courses I took in college that I just LOVED was, of all things, Canadian Culture & History, and not only did I ace the class (I love learning about new places, geography and all that good stuff! lol) but I educated everyone on the EMPRESS OF IRELAND diaster, which even most Canadians don't know about. In short, it was Canada's worst maritime disaster and most people aren't aware of it cause that summer World War I took place.
The only bad thing I have ever heard about Canada as a nation - and all you Canadian folks out there please correct me if I am wrong - is that it has severe problems with its national identity because the two largest groups, the British and the French, have a lot of issues with each other. Well, that doesn't make it a bad place and it's really not their fault, it's the fault of Great Britain and France that their national identity doesn't know which way to go. Even if any of that is true (and for me personally, it's not an issue of ethnic background, I just wanna know where all the available gay bachelors are!) I think Canada is a very fascinating place. And I don't want to go for just a quick visit - I'd would really like to check it out someday.
Peanut Butter and Jelly. I told a Canadian gentleman via messaging about it one day and I think he probaly thought "Combivir getting to you again Spice??" I'm serious, you Canadians have got the BEST Peanut Butter and Jelly on the entire planet!!! I mean it. Here in the States all we got is Jif and a few others to chose from; but, in Canada, your peanut butter is made by Kraft, Inc. and we can't get it anywhere here in the States because Kraft won't market it here! Ugh! And then on top of it, Kraft Strawberry Preserves and Red Raspberry Preserves - oh my God, I don't know what they put in that stuff but my Lord, it tastes like someone made it homade! I'm not kidding! Now that's not to say when I come there to visit I wanna Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich (or in this case probaly two!!) for dinner but damn, I have got to get my hands on that Kraft Peanut Butter, it blows Jif, Skippy and Peter Pan right off the charts! Did everyone just get that? I made a funny!! That is the neatest thing about us blondes, we can amuse ourselves so easily!
Elissa Landi. An actress, poet and novelist. Her story needs to be told more often but I wanna hone in one angle of her existence. Of all the great, talented actresses of the 1930's that I have studied over my lifetime, get this - every time she went back to Canada to visit her family members, she was never once hounded. I'm serious. I've researched tons of microfiche archives on her over the years and NOT ONCE did the press harass her any time she came back to Canada to visit. Now I realize this is just once instance of this kinda thing happening, and I realize that Elissa and I exist(ed) generations apart from each other; but, it's got me thinking - is the Canadian press more respectful of people's privacy versus the American press?
I realize that Canada and America have both changed drastically since the 1930's (Canada being the more progressive of the two in certain areas), but wow, think of the possibilities. I'll make any of you a bottom dollar bet that I could come to Canada, unload all my secrets, all my mysteries, people would listen for a few days and then I think they would drop it. I know this probaly sounds irrational on my part, but it makes me wanna ask myself - would the Canadians even give a rat's ass about who I was involved with in my past, even LGBT Canadians with me having an indirect place in gay American history? Don't get me wrong, I haven't been studying you Canadians beneath a diabolical magnifying class but damn, you really are different from the Americans - but in my book, different in a good way, a kind, genuine, compassionate way.
All the above are just thoughts and ponderings on my part, perhaps even mere speculations if you will, but it does make my wheels spin a bit in my mind; but again, in a positive way. I wouldn't go as far as to say self-serving for let's face it, no matter who you are or where you live on our planet, every place has its good and not-so-good points. My mind is definitely made up about one thing though - I wanna visit Canada in the not-too-distant future, I wanna get a feel for the place and a feel for the people (no pun intended!). I just hope it's as welcoming as some of the fine, decent people whom I consider my friends who live there. Thank you for reading.
For years now several of my acquaintances/friends from all over America have told me "Spice, you just gotta go there and check it out, you really do!" Oh I too think it's worth checking out but I never thought about it much beyond visiting. You all know that I despise the word/concept of alienation and I hope that this doesn't offend any of my fellow Americans but I have to be honest with myself - in the last couple of months that my prescence on Facebook has somewhat accelerated I've noticed that more and more of the people who have taken me in as a friend and/or confidante are not U.S. citizens - they're Canadian. And that tickles me to no end!
I've always thought the bullshit of people cracking jokes about Canada was just that - bullshit. I enjoy South Park too and I know every place on the planet gets made fun of in one way or another but Canada isn't some inferior territory that borders America like most comedians make it out to be.
One of the liberal elective courses I took in college that I just LOVED was, of all things, Canadian Culture & History, and not only did I ace the class (I love learning about new places, geography and all that good stuff! lol) but I educated everyone on the EMPRESS OF IRELAND diaster, which even most Canadians don't know about. In short, it was Canada's worst maritime disaster and most people aren't aware of it cause that summer World War I took place.
The only bad thing I have ever heard about Canada as a nation - and all you Canadian folks out there please correct me if I am wrong - is that it has severe problems with its national identity because the two largest groups, the British and the French, have a lot of issues with each other. Well, that doesn't make it a bad place and it's really not their fault, it's the fault of Great Britain and France that their national identity doesn't know which way to go. Even if any of that is true (and for me personally, it's not an issue of ethnic background, I just wanna know where all the available gay bachelors are!) I think Canada is a very fascinating place. And I don't want to go for just a quick visit - I'd would really like to check it out someday.
Peanut Butter and Jelly. I told a Canadian gentleman via messaging about it one day and I think he probaly thought "Combivir getting to you again Spice??" I'm serious, you Canadians have got the BEST Peanut Butter and Jelly on the entire planet!!! I mean it. Here in the States all we got is Jif and a few others to chose from; but, in Canada, your peanut butter is made by Kraft, Inc. and we can't get it anywhere here in the States because Kraft won't market it here! Ugh! And then on top of it, Kraft Strawberry Preserves and Red Raspberry Preserves - oh my God, I don't know what they put in that stuff but my Lord, it tastes like someone made it homade! I'm not kidding! Now that's not to say when I come there to visit I wanna Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich (or in this case probaly two!!) for dinner but damn, I have got to get my hands on that Kraft Peanut Butter, it blows Jif, Skippy and Peter Pan right off the charts! Did everyone just get that? I made a funny!! That is the neatest thing about us blondes, we can amuse ourselves so easily!
Elissa Landi. An actress, poet and novelist. Her story needs to be told more often but I wanna hone in one angle of her existence. Of all the great, talented actresses of the 1930's that I have studied over my lifetime, get this - every time she went back to Canada to visit her family members, she was never once hounded. I'm serious. I've researched tons of microfiche archives on her over the years and NOT ONCE did the press harass her any time she came back to Canada to visit. Now I realize this is just once instance of this kinda thing happening, and I realize that Elissa and I exist(ed) generations apart from each other; but, it's got me thinking - is the Canadian press more respectful of people's privacy versus the American press?
I realize that Canada and America have both changed drastically since the 1930's (Canada being the more progressive of the two in certain areas), but wow, think of the possibilities. I'll make any of you a bottom dollar bet that I could come to Canada, unload all my secrets, all my mysteries, people would listen for a few days and then I think they would drop it. I know this probaly sounds irrational on my part, but it makes me wanna ask myself - would the Canadians even give a rat's ass about who I was involved with in my past, even LGBT Canadians with me having an indirect place in gay American history? Don't get me wrong, I haven't been studying you Canadians beneath a diabolical magnifying class but damn, you really are different from the Americans - but in my book, different in a good way, a kind, genuine, compassionate way.
All the above are just thoughts and ponderings on my part, perhaps even mere speculations if you will, but it does make my wheels spin a bit in my mind; but again, in a positive way. I wouldn't go as far as to say self-serving for let's face it, no matter who you are or where you live on our planet, every place has its good and not-so-good points. My mind is definitely made up about one thing though - I wanna visit Canada in the not-too-distant future, I wanna get a feel for the place and a feel for the people (no pun intended!). I just hope it's as welcoming as some of the fine, decent people whom I consider my friends who live there. Thank you for reading.
Friday, June 4, 2010
On Larry Kramer - Friday, June 4, 2010
Several days I ago I read an article on the Poz.com website on Larry Kramer and his current battle with the GMHC. The author of the piece, Sean Strub, described Larry Kramer's powerful invective abilities akin to a whirlwind, a giant hurricane of anger and fury. He practically painted Mr. Kramer as this titanic, uncontrollable, unstopable turbine of hellfire, which Mr. Kramer definitely is; BUT, what Mr. Strub didn't add in is that not only does almost every single one of Mr. Kramer's battles end in a glorious victory championing the rights of all us Hiv'ers, as well as the overall LGBT community, but he demonstrates over and over again that he is not only the unchallenged King of Hiv/AIDS activism, but without him, the majority of today's Hiv/AIDS activists wouldn't even be in existence.
Oh I know, I know, that's a hard pill for any of you to swallow, let alone digest; but, it is without a shadow of a doubt, the full and utter truth. I'm not trying to cast judgement on any of my fellow activists, I validate that the majority of you have busted your asses (and in some cases your moneypockets) in launching your websites, your blogs, your fundraisers, etc. etc.,; but, there's a couple of points where most of you need a major reality check on.
But before I get started on that, there is one point I want to make upfront right away. The main difference, as well as the explanation for Larry Kramer's longevity and reslience on the neverending battlefront, between him and the rest of you is this - his human compassion for his fellow human being, and NOT just this one or that one, BUT EVERYONE. That is EXACTLY where some of you are fucking up.
The reality checks..I already hit on the 1st problem of my fellow activists - your flagrant inability to include every Hiv'er on your team. Hey guys, there isn't a damn thing wrong with stating "Well, we are covering this or that segment of the battle and here's how we are doing it...", that's great, but when you create your decadent, prepubescent cliques and start stating "Well, you have to be this way or that way in order to be a member" you're alienating all the regular folks out there who may not be fortunate enough to wave wands of publicity and self-righteousness like some of you do. It's wrong and it needs to stop.
The 2nd reality check...do you wanna know why the only thing that's keeping any of your "organizations" going is the 24-hour-a-day-7-days-a-week publicity mills that you've all created? Very simple answer. You do not know how to fight. You're all so goddamn busy with the glamourization of this disease that in the process you've lost your ability to connect directly with the human element of it all. When you thirst for fame, eventually that fame becomes shallow and meaningless; but, when you alienate others along the way, that's even more dentrimental to your various causes because you're hurting people along the way - and that's not right either.
What do I think you all need to do? Refocus yourselves. Start connecting with those who have been around longer than you, people like Larry Kramer, for there is so much we can learn from our elder, seasoned Hiv'ers. Stop with the glamourization of Hiv/AIDS - there are a few or more of you that are setting an extremely poor, unrealistic example for the younger LGBT generations to follow. It's like you're saying to them "See, if you get this disease like me, you can become famous like me, have enough money for all your meds, have a nice home, travel the world and you can be included in our group!" Yeah, influencing others to walk a gangplank that not one of us would ever be on if we had that second chance. Yep, that makes a lot of
sense, doesnt it?
I'm curious - while all these self-serving glitterdomes of fantasy are sprouting up left-n-right, what are any of you doing for the everyday Hiv'er? What about the Hiv'ers that can't afford their meds? What about the Hiv'ers who have children and have lost their jobs and cant afford to pay their bills? Or even afford housing? Oh you'll all make it known that you are standing up for this cause and that cause, but a few of you aren't even getting off your asses to do anything about it.
And now for the biggest question of all - and oh God I would love to hear all of your answers to this question because whatta helluva pip of explanations that would be. Here it is....what are you going to do when you fall? I mean it, I wanna know, how are you gonna handle it? There are several of you who actually have the nerve to think you are invincible. Oh really? If you think that all your public fame and boo-koo bucks that you're bringing in for yourselves is gonna prevent this disease from knocking you down here-n-there, you are very fucken sadly mistaken. Yet when you do fall, when you get really really sick the first few times, trust me, you're gonna wish all those people you counted out of your circles will be there to do something to help. I'll be there for anyone because that's the type of person I am, but please, I implore of each and every one of you to heed my warning on all of this. I wouldn't say it if I didnt genuinely care.
No, I'm not saying that I am the world's greatest Hiv/AIDS activist out there, be-cause I'm not, I have a lot to learn and much to do; nor am I wishing any of you to fall deathly ill. I just wanna make it very clear in no uncertain terms that you need to keep your human touch with those around you intact, you need to be realistic that what we're all fighting against isn't a round after round of fun-n-games, but pure reality.
Larry Kramer was and is someone I admired and yes, even thought of as a hero, years before I even tested Hiv+ and I suspect I will look up to him till my last breath is gone. But you see, he sets an example not just as someone who is a relentless, true fighter that never gives up; but, also someone whom is genuinely compassionate towards his fellow human beings. The side of him that you dont see mentioned in editorials such as the one Mr. Strub published is the side that is loving, fiercely loyal to his friends, filled with great strength of character and committed, always, to making a difference in the lives of others.
One of the several things that someone whom was very close to me told me several days before he died was, believe it or not, this - "If Larry Kramer ever needs an extra soldier I want you to go volunteer." I looked at him, crying and laughing in the same breath and said "Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell would Larry Kramer want with a nobody like me?" And he told me something that perhaps I should have told all of you rather than even writing this mini-epistle - "Because everyone counts." If we all can remember this, I think we're all gonna be okay. Maybe not but I sure would like to rest easy at night knowing that I'm a member of one very formidable team. Thank you for reading.
Oh I know, I know, that's a hard pill for any of you to swallow, let alone digest; but, it is without a shadow of a doubt, the full and utter truth. I'm not trying to cast judgement on any of my fellow activists, I validate that the majority of you have busted your asses (and in some cases your moneypockets) in launching your websites, your blogs, your fundraisers, etc. etc.,; but, there's a couple of points where most of you need a major reality check on.
But before I get started on that, there is one point I want to make upfront right away. The main difference, as well as the explanation for Larry Kramer's longevity and reslience on the neverending battlefront, between him and the rest of you is this - his human compassion for his fellow human being, and NOT just this one or that one, BUT EVERYONE. That is EXACTLY where some of you are fucking up.
The reality checks..I already hit on the 1st problem of my fellow activists - your flagrant inability to include every Hiv'er on your team. Hey guys, there isn't a damn thing wrong with stating "Well, we are covering this or that segment of the battle and here's how we are doing it...", that's great, but when you create your decadent, prepubescent cliques and start stating "Well, you have to be this way or that way in order to be a member" you're alienating all the regular folks out there who may not be fortunate enough to wave wands of publicity and self-righteousness like some of you do. It's wrong and it needs to stop.
The 2nd reality check...do you wanna know why the only thing that's keeping any of your "organizations" going is the 24-hour-a-day-7-days-a-week publicity mills that you've all created? Very simple answer. You do not know how to fight. You're all so goddamn busy with the glamourization of this disease that in the process you've lost your ability to connect directly with the human element of it all. When you thirst for fame, eventually that fame becomes shallow and meaningless; but, when you alienate others along the way, that's even more dentrimental to your various causes because you're hurting people along the way - and that's not right either.
What do I think you all need to do? Refocus yourselves. Start connecting with those who have been around longer than you, people like Larry Kramer, for there is so much we can learn from our elder, seasoned Hiv'ers. Stop with the glamourization of Hiv/AIDS - there are a few or more of you that are setting an extremely poor, unrealistic example for the younger LGBT generations to follow. It's like you're saying to them "See, if you get this disease like me, you can become famous like me, have enough money for all your meds, have a nice home, travel the world and you can be included in our group!" Yeah, influencing others to walk a gangplank that not one of us would ever be on if we had that second chance. Yep, that makes a lot of
sense, doesnt it?
I'm curious - while all these self-serving glitterdomes of fantasy are sprouting up left-n-right, what are any of you doing for the everyday Hiv'er? What about the Hiv'ers that can't afford their meds? What about the Hiv'ers who have children and have lost their jobs and cant afford to pay their bills? Or even afford housing? Oh you'll all make it known that you are standing up for this cause and that cause, but a few of you aren't even getting off your asses to do anything about it.
And now for the biggest question of all - and oh God I would love to hear all of your answers to this question because whatta helluva pip of explanations that would be. Here it is....what are you going to do when you fall? I mean it, I wanna know, how are you gonna handle it? There are several of you who actually have the nerve to think you are invincible. Oh really? If you think that all your public fame and boo-koo bucks that you're bringing in for yourselves is gonna prevent this disease from knocking you down here-n-there, you are very fucken sadly mistaken. Yet when you do fall, when you get really really sick the first few times, trust me, you're gonna wish all those people you counted out of your circles will be there to do something to help. I'll be there for anyone because that's the type of person I am, but please, I implore of each and every one of you to heed my warning on all of this. I wouldn't say it if I didnt genuinely care.
No, I'm not saying that I am the world's greatest Hiv/AIDS activist out there, be-cause I'm not, I have a lot to learn and much to do; nor am I wishing any of you to fall deathly ill. I just wanna make it very clear in no uncertain terms that you need to keep your human touch with those around you intact, you need to be realistic that what we're all fighting against isn't a round after round of fun-n-games, but pure reality.
Larry Kramer was and is someone I admired and yes, even thought of as a hero, years before I even tested Hiv+ and I suspect I will look up to him till my last breath is gone. But you see, he sets an example not just as someone who is a relentless, true fighter that never gives up; but, also someone whom is genuinely compassionate towards his fellow human beings. The side of him that you dont see mentioned in editorials such as the one Mr. Strub published is the side that is loving, fiercely loyal to his friends, filled with great strength of character and committed, always, to making a difference in the lives of others.
One of the several things that someone whom was very close to me told me several days before he died was, believe it or not, this - "If Larry Kramer ever needs an extra soldier I want you to go volunteer." I looked at him, crying and laughing in the same breath and said "Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell would Larry Kramer want with a nobody like me?" And he told me something that perhaps I should have told all of you rather than even writing this mini-epistle - "Because everyone counts." If we all can remember this, I think we're all gonna be okay. Maybe not but I sure would like to rest easy at night knowing that I'm a member of one very formidable team. Thank you for reading.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Reflections On Yesterday's Postings - Thurs., June 3, 2010
I'm still not sure I did the right thing about coming out on the Herpes issue in my most recent postings, and maybe that's because I'm still not done dealing with it. My medical team and I have yet to nail down what we are fighting and whether or not our current battleplan against it is gonna be the magic bullet. I may do updates on this from time to time.
Looking back on what I wrote I did have to laugh about admitting that I'm not the most sexually active gay man/Hiv'er on the planet. Over the years people have actually asked me "Are you sure you're gay? You just don't have the same sexual habits of the average gay guy." This may be true but after all these years, I still disagree with the stereotype that all gay men are ravenous, vampire-like creatures with insatiable, sexual appetites. Oh sure, I know for a fact that some of my fellow gay brothers are that way; but, I still think that kinda thing varies from person to person.
And even though I am openminded to meeting new people and dating, I don't believe people should be "easy" and there are A LOT of gay men out there who most emphatically disagree with me on my stance. Most of them have told me "Well, on a first date you can at least give the guy a blowjob." My response to that is "Really? Got news for ya there Sparky, nothing of anyone's body is going anywhere in my body until I know them fairly well." No, I am not a cocktease, nor a player, I'm just doing what I feel comfortable with and I think everyone should have that right. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy deep, meaningful sex just like anyone else does; but, I also have learned over the years that there is more to life than just sex.
One guy I went with on one date several years ago actually became quite belligerent towards me regarding the issue of when or when not to have sex with someone who've just met. I'll never forget his exact words "Jesus Christ! This is not the 1950's and you are not fucken Gidget, so just put out!" I just looked at him, laughed (it's better than screaming), opened my mouth and the first words that came to mind flew out, "Fuck you Sparky" and that was the end of that. I'm sure we all have had first dates that have gone awry but I still think the bottom line is that if you don't feel comfortable doing something with someone you're not sure about, don't do it. It won't be the end of the world, there will always be other opportunities out there.
I'm extremely nervous about my upcoming surgery on the 8th, almost to the point where I just MIGHT have to have at least one cigarette beforehand. I'm doing my best to resist but I just don't know. Last year's surgery was a success and I must keep believing this year's will be too. Just think - for the first time in a over 1 year I will be able to walk normal again like normal people, be able to take walks, do some hiking, exercise on a daily basis - all the normal things that everyone I know gets to do. That's the main purpose of the surgery to begin with.
But then I keep thinking of that damned cancer period of mine and all those crazy, negative thoughts start rushing through my head - what if there are complications? What if I lose a few months of my life all over again? But I have to do this, there's so much to look forward to in the future, ya know? Not just daily activities but I wanna be able to make myself present in some of the Pride events next year, I wanna be able to walk with people - and not with my gimpish right leg either - a nice normal leg, strong and in good shape. I wanna walk with Pride and as corny as it sounds (no one has ever commented on that posting about my jacket, do you think they think it's a joke? Oh well, they can just "fech off!" lol) I wanna be wearing my Spice Jacket when I do - it deserves to be shown proudly in the light of day - and so do I, so do all of us. Thank you for reading.
Looking back on what I wrote I did have to laugh about admitting that I'm not the most sexually active gay man/Hiv'er on the planet. Over the years people have actually asked me "Are you sure you're gay? You just don't have the same sexual habits of the average gay guy." This may be true but after all these years, I still disagree with the stereotype that all gay men are ravenous, vampire-like creatures with insatiable, sexual appetites. Oh sure, I know for a fact that some of my fellow gay brothers are that way; but, I still think that kinda thing varies from person to person.
And even though I am openminded to meeting new people and dating, I don't believe people should be "easy" and there are A LOT of gay men out there who most emphatically disagree with me on my stance. Most of them have told me "Well, on a first date you can at least give the guy a blowjob." My response to that is "Really? Got news for ya there Sparky, nothing of anyone's body is going anywhere in my body until I know them fairly well." No, I am not a cocktease, nor a player, I'm just doing what I feel comfortable with and I think everyone should have that right. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy deep, meaningful sex just like anyone else does; but, I also have learned over the years that there is more to life than just sex.
One guy I went with on one date several years ago actually became quite belligerent towards me regarding the issue of when or when not to have sex with someone who've just met. I'll never forget his exact words "Jesus Christ! This is not the 1950's and you are not fucken Gidget, so just put out!" I just looked at him, laughed (it's better than screaming), opened my mouth and the first words that came to mind flew out, "Fuck you Sparky" and that was the end of that. I'm sure we all have had first dates that have gone awry but I still think the bottom line is that if you don't feel comfortable doing something with someone you're not sure about, don't do it. It won't be the end of the world, there will always be other opportunities out there.
I'm extremely nervous about my upcoming surgery on the 8th, almost to the point where I just MIGHT have to have at least one cigarette beforehand. I'm doing my best to resist but I just don't know. Last year's surgery was a success and I must keep believing this year's will be too. Just think - for the first time in a over 1 year I will be able to walk normal again like normal people, be able to take walks, do some hiking, exercise on a daily basis - all the normal things that everyone I know gets to do. That's the main purpose of the surgery to begin with.
But then I keep thinking of that damned cancer period of mine and all those crazy, negative thoughts start rushing through my head - what if there are complications? What if I lose a few months of my life all over again? But I have to do this, there's so much to look forward to in the future, ya know? Not just daily activities but I wanna be able to make myself present in some of the Pride events next year, I wanna be able to walk with people - and not with my gimpish right leg either - a nice normal leg, strong and in good shape. I wanna walk with Pride and as corny as it sounds (no one has ever commented on that posting about my jacket, do you think they think it's a joke? Oh well, they can just "fech off!" lol) I wanna be wearing my Spice Jacket when I do - it deserves to be shown proudly in the light of day - and so do I, so do all of us. Thank you for reading.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
All This..and Herpes Too (Part 3) - Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I'm not going to give the whole scoop on the guy I contracted the Herpes from, even though there are a couple of humorous angles about the entire situation that I might include, because outting him for lying to me isn't going to solve anything, let alone take away the Herpes. Originally I was going to write a piece about him and title it "What Do We Do When The Other Person Doesn't Disclose To Us Hiv'ers?" but that too won't solve anything and plus it'd be downright childish.
Here's a run-down of my relationship with him. We met in a grocery store (I know, I never thought that kinda thing would ever ever happen to me either!) and dated for about 3 months. The relationship ended when I caught him cheating on me, but it would've ended anyways because we obviously didn't want the same things in a relationship, the key word here being obviously, naturally. Did I love him? Yes, for awhile there I thought I did but he obviously wasn't looking for that.
In the last couple months of my life a friend or two have said to me "OMG, why don't you out the sonnuvabitch?? Don't you want to warn others about him so he stops spreading it??" Yes, sure, I don't want him giving anyone else Herpes either but me reading him the riot act - which by the way, I did just that when I confronted him and he lied to me - is not going to change his behavior, that's up to him to change his behavior.
As for outting him what the hell is that gonna prove? Yes, what he did to me was beyond inexcusable but let's not kid ourselves, he didnt force me to hop in the sack with him, that was my own decision. And destroying another human being's life? Doing something malicious to him - hell, to anyone for that matter - is not going to solve the problem. I have this extra disease to deal with and as physically painful as it gets at times, I have to learn new ways to deal with it and live my life as best as I can. That's how you "get even" with those who do you wrong - live the best, healthiest, happiest life you possibly can.
As I've said before I have no specific "type" of man that I date and it so happens to be that he was the first Jewish guy I ever became involved with. For myself, a person's religion or spirituality is immaterial, as long as it doesn't involve harming people, animals or any other living creature I am okay with it.
One of the funniest aspects of the situation was where we met - in the kosher meat section of the local grocery store! It's true. To this day I cannot pass by a kosher meat section in any grocery store without blushing and thinking about all the filthy things he use to whisper to me when we were shopping! Another humorous - and defnitely most ironic - part about our entire involvement is that all the while we were together I would say to myself every now and then, "Oh, I just know God is gonna punish me for sleeping with a Holy Man, I just know it!" or "Watch, I'll get one of those "bad girl" diseases from the 1950's, the ones they talked about in those black-n-white, 16 mm films!" I'm not always right about everything in my life but those 2 comments that I would say to myself proved to be accurate premonitions. Where is Alanis Morrissette when you need her, ya know?
One other thing. The following did not have any bearing on how I felt about him as a person but looking back I can now see why a couple of friends suggested outting him. Rabbi's are suppose to be the mainstay of their local Jewish community networks, especially if you're an Orthodox Jew. However, it's also a known fact Orthodox Jews (at least here in the States) are fiercely anti-gay. So here's the greatest oxymoron of this entire story - I was involved with a closeted Orthodox Jewish Rabbi who not only led a double-life but left a calling card I will have to live with for the rest of my life. However, I know the following and I would hope you all do too - his dishonest actions towards me were a result of his person, not his religious affiliation.
Switching gears. I'm gonna recant using people's real names in any future posts because I look at it this way - this blog is mine, my sole property and I shall use it any way I choose to. As far as I know, it's not illegal to write about anyone or anything you want, with of course those one or two rare exceptions. Be that as it may, I won't say the name of the next person I'm going to speak about - you guys can track it down on the Facebook posts if you want, it shouldn't be difficult - because even though I may still ask folks for their blessing when I deem it appropriate in this case, it's immaterial at this point in time.
About a month or two back I was posting a comment on one of the Facebook posts a friend of mine made, nothing out of the ordinary; but, a couple hours later I noticed a comment appeared beneath my comment. The exact words were "HivSpice? Now THAT's funny! YAY!!!" Now as a mature, rational adult I simply reminded myself that with my Spice nic there were probaly gonna be some non-flattering comments here-n-there. However, I too am allowed to have my bad days and my bitchy days, I am no stranger to opening up and telling it like it is. And though I felt my canine teeth sprout an extra inch and my nails started to look like the Wolfman's, all I said in return was "And I find you equally amusing! YAY!!!" It really was meant to be more funny than anything and nothing really came of it beyond that, except a good friend did politely, not negatively, defend my name.
Ironically, as is always the case in my life, the guy who mouthed off about my name is also the same exact guy who not only came out as an open Hiv'er not too long ago, BUT also was dual-diagnosed as also having - you guessed it - Herpes. I ask you, what are the chances of THAT happening?
In between the name comment and the most recent development he had gone to press seperately on other things and I did even write him a little note telling him directly that I was sincerely proud of his story and that I hoped I had the same courage he did when my time comes to do the same thing. He never wrote back. And that's okay, I'm not pissin-n-moanin about that, it's just that now that I think about it, wow, he and I could probaly exchange notes and who knows, maybe even become genuine friends, maybe even lend a shoulder to each other when needed. But, I guess this is one of those times when people can't overlook what I like to call the petty chickenshit in life. Maybe he will someday but in the meantime I have to take care of myself first, in that sense, I think we all do. Thanks for reading everyone.
P.S. Just because I am living in Boston right now does not mean everything I write about has happened to me here. Why? Because it hasn't.
Here's a run-down of my relationship with him. We met in a grocery store (I know, I never thought that kinda thing would ever ever happen to me either!) and dated for about 3 months. The relationship ended when I caught him cheating on me, but it would've ended anyways because we obviously didn't want the same things in a relationship, the key word here being obviously, naturally. Did I love him? Yes, for awhile there I thought I did but he obviously wasn't looking for that.
In the last couple months of my life a friend or two have said to me "OMG, why don't you out the sonnuvabitch?? Don't you want to warn others about him so he stops spreading it??" Yes, sure, I don't want him giving anyone else Herpes either but me reading him the riot act - which by the way, I did just that when I confronted him and he lied to me - is not going to change his behavior, that's up to him to change his behavior.
As for outting him what the hell is that gonna prove? Yes, what he did to me was beyond inexcusable but let's not kid ourselves, he didnt force me to hop in the sack with him, that was my own decision. And destroying another human being's life? Doing something malicious to him - hell, to anyone for that matter - is not going to solve the problem. I have this extra disease to deal with and as physically painful as it gets at times, I have to learn new ways to deal with it and live my life as best as I can. That's how you "get even" with those who do you wrong - live the best, healthiest, happiest life you possibly can.
As I've said before I have no specific "type" of man that I date and it so happens to be that he was the first Jewish guy I ever became involved with. For myself, a person's religion or spirituality is immaterial, as long as it doesn't involve harming people, animals or any other living creature I am okay with it.
One of the funniest aspects of the situation was where we met - in the kosher meat section of the local grocery store! It's true. To this day I cannot pass by a kosher meat section in any grocery store without blushing and thinking about all the filthy things he use to whisper to me when we were shopping! Another humorous - and defnitely most ironic - part about our entire involvement is that all the while we were together I would say to myself every now and then, "Oh, I just know God is gonna punish me for sleeping with a Holy Man, I just know it!" or "Watch, I'll get one of those "bad girl" diseases from the 1950's, the ones they talked about in those black-n-white, 16 mm films!" I'm not always right about everything in my life but those 2 comments that I would say to myself proved to be accurate premonitions. Where is Alanis Morrissette when you need her, ya know?
One other thing. The following did not have any bearing on how I felt about him as a person but looking back I can now see why a couple of friends suggested outting him. Rabbi's are suppose to be the mainstay of their local Jewish community networks, especially if you're an Orthodox Jew. However, it's also a known fact Orthodox Jews (at least here in the States) are fiercely anti-gay. So here's the greatest oxymoron of this entire story - I was involved with a closeted Orthodox Jewish Rabbi who not only led a double-life but left a calling card I will have to live with for the rest of my life. However, I know the following and I would hope you all do too - his dishonest actions towards me were a result of his person, not his religious affiliation.
Switching gears. I'm gonna recant using people's real names in any future posts because I look at it this way - this blog is mine, my sole property and I shall use it any way I choose to. As far as I know, it's not illegal to write about anyone or anything you want, with of course those one or two rare exceptions. Be that as it may, I won't say the name of the next person I'm going to speak about - you guys can track it down on the Facebook posts if you want, it shouldn't be difficult - because even though I may still ask folks for their blessing when I deem it appropriate in this case, it's immaterial at this point in time.
About a month or two back I was posting a comment on one of the Facebook posts a friend of mine made, nothing out of the ordinary; but, a couple hours later I noticed a comment appeared beneath my comment. The exact words were "HivSpice? Now THAT's funny! YAY!!!" Now as a mature, rational adult I simply reminded myself that with my Spice nic there were probaly gonna be some non-flattering comments here-n-there. However, I too am allowed to have my bad days and my bitchy days, I am no stranger to opening up and telling it like it is. And though I felt my canine teeth sprout an extra inch and my nails started to look like the Wolfman's, all I said in return was "And I find you equally amusing! YAY!!!" It really was meant to be more funny than anything and nothing really came of it beyond that, except a good friend did politely, not negatively, defend my name.
Ironically, as is always the case in my life, the guy who mouthed off about my name is also the same exact guy who not only came out as an open Hiv'er not too long ago, BUT also was dual-diagnosed as also having - you guessed it - Herpes. I ask you, what are the chances of THAT happening?
In between the name comment and the most recent development he had gone to press seperately on other things and I did even write him a little note telling him directly that I was sincerely proud of his story and that I hoped I had the same courage he did when my time comes to do the same thing. He never wrote back. And that's okay, I'm not pissin-n-moanin about that, it's just that now that I think about it, wow, he and I could probaly exchange notes and who knows, maybe even become genuine friends, maybe even lend a shoulder to each other when needed. But, I guess this is one of those times when people can't overlook what I like to call the petty chickenshit in life. Maybe he will someday but in the meantime I have to take care of myself first, in that sense, I think we all do. Thanks for reading everyone.
P.S. Just because I am living in Boston right now does not mean everything I write about has happened to me here. Why? Because it hasn't.
All This...and Herpes Too (Part 2) - Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I couldn't figure out where I got it from, seriously. I kept doing research and finally found out that even though the majority of Herpes cases usually surface within 3 to 6 months (or longer) after infection, like HIV, the dormancy period can be YEARS; and, that 80% of the North American population has it and doesn't even know it because they have no symptons of the disease. Plus, on top of it all, get this - there is no safe-sex preventative measure to stop the spread of Herpes! No lie. Even if you're NOT having an outbreak you can spread it by mere skin-to-skin sexual contact. Condoms are great (never 100% foolproof though) but condoms can't stop the spread of Herpes.
In other words, Herpes is alot like what I call my HIV - "the Christmas gift that never stops giving all year round, year after year." I'm going to keep researching all of this but I am dead serious about my inquiry in Part 1 - what does this mean for me, and others, who are in this boat? Does it mean we should only date others who have Herpes also? If so, that sure will make me a hypocrite (a classification I have never had my entire life) about the piece I wrote on Hiv+ versus Hiv-, won't it? I guess I'll have to figure it out along the way.
The very few people who have known about it before this posting asked me "What does it look and feel like?" The best way to describe it is this - physically, it looks like teeny tiny white bumps, sorta like an acne breakout that got way out of control. On me personally, it still scares me and I still cry about it from time to time because quite frankly, I'm extremely protective over my last remaining testicle, sorta the way a mother is protective over a child. If it's doing anything that both my doctors and myself are unaware of, I'm gonna be one very pissed off individual.
Oh, what it feels like is this - at least on us males, I assume females who have it might experience similiarities - the full outbreak itself is like a burning sensation that never stops; but, usually will stop within a few hours of taking the 1st dose of medication. You can always tell an outbreak is coming because it feels like little, teeny tiny pings or pops of Vick's Vapo-Rub is popping up all over your crotch. That's the best way to describe it. The trick is this - the second a person feels ANY tingling sensation, pop the pills right away and that way it will lessen the length of the outbreak. Well at least for most people, not yours truly.
I traced back my sexual history and naturally, I got this from sexual activity. But, here's the kicker - I disclosed my HIV history to him but he obviously didn't disclose his Herpes to me. And, when I confronted him about it, he lied to me. How do I know for sure it was him? Hate to tell all my personal secrets, but as much as I love sex, I don't get it too often. My Herpes remained dormant for exactly 1 year and 3 months - because that was the last time I was sexually active with anyone.
Get ready, ole' Spicer is making blog history - Part # 3, a first for me, coming soon. Thanks for reading.
In other words, Herpes is alot like what I call my HIV - "the Christmas gift that never stops giving all year round, year after year." I'm going to keep researching all of this but I am dead serious about my inquiry in Part 1 - what does this mean for me, and others, who are in this boat? Does it mean we should only date others who have Herpes also? If so, that sure will make me a hypocrite (a classification I have never had my entire life) about the piece I wrote on Hiv+ versus Hiv-, won't it? I guess I'll have to figure it out along the way.
The very few people who have known about it before this posting asked me "What does it look and feel like?" The best way to describe it is this - physically, it looks like teeny tiny white bumps, sorta like an acne breakout that got way out of control. On me personally, it still scares me and I still cry about it from time to time because quite frankly, I'm extremely protective over my last remaining testicle, sorta the way a mother is protective over a child. If it's doing anything that both my doctors and myself are unaware of, I'm gonna be one very pissed off individual.
Oh, what it feels like is this - at least on us males, I assume females who have it might experience similiarities - the full outbreak itself is like a burning sensation that never stops; but, usually will stop within a few hours of taking the 1st dose of medication. You can always tell an outbreak is coming because it feels like little, teeny tiny pings or pops of Vick's Vapo-Rub is popping up all over your crotch. That's the best way to describe it. The trick is this - the second a person feels ANY tingling sensation, pop the pills right away and that way it will lessen the length of the outbreak. Well at least for most people, not yours truly.
I traced back my sexual history and naturally, I got this from sexual activity. But, here's the kicker - I disclosed my HIV history to him but he obviously didn't disclose his Herpes to me. And, when I confronted him about it, he lied to me. How do I know for sure it was him? Hate to tell all my personal secrets, but as much as I love sex, I don't get it too often. My Herpes remained dormant for exactly 1 year and 3 months - because that was the last time I was sexually active with anyone.
Get ready, ole' Spicer is making blog history - Part # 3, a first for me, coming soon. Thanks for reading.
All This...and Herpes Too (Part 1)- Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Believe it or not, even as I'm sitting down to write this piece I am still debating on how to go about it - do I just write the Herpes angle of it or do I write the human side of the story? Can I integrate it all without writing something as large as the sequel book to "Gone With The Wind?" Guess we'll find out. This is gonna be long so get the coffee, the Vienna Fingers and if you smoke, will you please have 2 or 3 for me? God it's no wonder that Lillian Hellman and Dashiel Hammett smoked 3 and a half to 4 packs PER DAY when writing! Now I finally understand why...
It was early in the morning of February 20th, 2010, sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 a.m., when I woke up groaning loudly in severe pain! Being more than halfway asleep at first I thought "Oh great, the flat is on fire and after surviving this nasty disease this long I'm gonna end up a human matchstick, just my friggin luck!" because I thought my body was on fire. Lo and behold, close but no cigar - thank God. I felt around and it was my crotch - my crotch was on fire! Or so it felt! At first I mused to myself "Did somebody let Dino DiMarco in the room and no one told me???"
I got up outta my bed and attempted to walk, but I could not do so without being in extremely excruciating pain. Oh you guys, it was so bad I literally hollered upward "Is this some kind of sick joke on your part???" I didnt know what to do and it wasn't getting any better. I even tried a special cream that us testicular cancer survivors have to apply anytime we get any kind of an infection down-you-know-where. Waited a half hour. That didn't work. So, rather than call an ambulance or take the T, I called up for a cab and off I went to the ER.
When I got there and was finally seen by the ER doctor he said to me "Did you notice these little white bumps on your scrotum?" and instantly, with my medical history I jumped to the wrong conclusion and thought "Oh fucken great, the cancer is back and now it's on the other testicle!!!" Funny how irrational a person can get in those mighty medical moments. I told him no and his words were, literally "I hate to tell you this with your medical history but Mr.________, you have Genital Herpes." I looked at him and I dont know if it was an anxiety release or not but I started laughing uncontrollably and my exact words were "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you trying to tell me that I ended up in the ER because I have a new STD??" He knew I was using humor to try to diffuse the emotional shock of the situation and laughed with me. But I just couldn't believe it. He prescribed some medication for me and before I left said to me "I'm so sorry Mr. ________" and I just laughed and said "You're sorry? Do you know how hard it is for someone like me to get a date? Think what this is gonna do to my social life Sweethaht!" We both laughed and then I cried all the way home in the cab.
Since that morning I have been on the medication I was prescribed non-stop. I'm still learning about this horrible Herpes thing and I don't have all the answers for myself yet, nor can I tell you much about it outside of my own personal experience. But here's the kicker with me - mine wont stop replicating. We're still running tests and trying to figure it out but so far no one has any answers. I still can't believe it.
Most people who get Genital Herpes will experience 1 to 3 major outbreaks over a 1 to 3 month period, with each outbreak being less in severity than the 1st orignal one; and, then it may "go away" for a year, a few years, maybe even 10 years. Those who have to remain on the drug indefinitely, such as myself, get a break from it WHILE they are on it because it literally stops replicating; BUT, again, mine's not stopping. What do I think is going on? I betcha in some evil, sinister way the friggin DNA from the HIV and the DNA from the Herpes are getting it on with each other and creating a whole new strain of Herpes. IF that's what is happening, in the next few years you will probaly see Herpes pamphlets at your local STD clinic stating there are 3 known strains of Herpes - Oral, Genital and Spicesational!
Whew, this took a lot outta me and thank God I don't smoke anymore, would've easily gone through at least 3/4's of a pack on this piece alone. Here's what I am gonna do - gonna rename this piece Part #1 and then do the human story angle in Part #2, which will also include a brief commentary on a fellow Hiv'er who not only is in the same boat as me, more or less, but who went public with it a few days ago. I didn't want to be "the first" on this one anyways, that kinda thing isnt my cup of tea, but if he or any of his friends read this will you please tell him I feel so much less alone because of him? I'd tell him myself but he's ignoring me - yep, another story, another posting. Or as one of my journalistic heroes, Linda Ellerbe would say "And so it goes." Thanks for reading everyone.
It was early in the morning of February 20th, 2010, sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 a.m., when I woke up groaning loudly in severe pain! Being more than halfway asleep at first I thought "Oh great, the flat is on fire and after surviving this nasty disease this long I'm gonna end up a human matchstick, just my friggin luck!" because I thought my body was on fire. Lo and behold, close but no cigar - thank God. I felt around and it was my crotch - my crotch was on fire! Or so it felt! At first I mused to myself "Did somebody let Dino DiMarco in the room and no one told me???"
I got up outta my bed and attempted to walk, but I could not do so without being in extremely excruciating pain. Oh you guys, it was so bad I literally hollered upward "Is this some kind of sick joke on your part???" I didnt know what to do and it wasn't getting any better. I even tried a special cream that us testicular cancer survivors have to apply anytime we get any kind of an infection down-you-know-where. Waited a half hour. That didn't work. So, rather than call an ambulance or take the T, I called up for a cab and off I went to the ER.
When I got there and was finally seen by the ER doctor he said to me "Did you notice these little white bumps on your scrotum?" and instantly, with my medical history I jumped to the wrong conclusion and thought "Oh fucken great, the cancer is back and now it's on the other testicle!!!" Funny how irrational a person can get in those mighty medical moments. I told him no and his words were, literally "I hate to tell you this with your medical history but Mr.________, you have Genital Herpes." I looked at him and I dont know if it was an anxiety release or not but I started laughing uncontrollably and my exact words were "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you trying to tell me that I ended up in the ER because I have a new STD??" He knew I was using humor to try to diffuse the emotional shock of the situation and laughed with me. But I just couldn't believe it. He prescribed some medication for me and before I left said to me "I'm so sorry Mr. ________" and I just laughed and said "You're sorry? Do you know how hard it is for someone like me to get a date? Think what this is gonna do to my social life Sweethaht!" We both laughed and then I cried all the way home in the cab.
Since that morning I have been on the medication I was prescribed non-stop. I'm still learning about this horrible Herpes thing and I don't have all the answers for myself yet, nor can I tell you much about it outside of my own personal experience. But here's the kicker with me - mine wont stop replicating. We're still running tests and trying to figure it out but so far no one has any answers. I still can't believe it.
Most people who get Genital Herpes will experience 1 to 3 major outbreaks over a 1 to 3 month period, with each outbreak being less in severity than the 1st orignal one; and, then it may "go away" for a year, a few years, maybe even 10 years. Those who have to remain on the drug indefinitely, such as myself, get a break from it WHILE they are on it because it literally stops replicating; BUT, again, mine's not stopping. What do I think is going on? I betcha in some evil, sinister way the friggin DNA from the HIV and the DNA from the Herpes are getting it on with each other and creating a whole new strain of Herpes. IF that's what is happening, in the next few years you will probaly see Herpes pamphlets at your local STD clinic stating there are 3 known strains of Herpes - Oral, Genital and Spicesational!
Whew, this took a lot outta me and thank God I don't smoke anymore, would've easily gone through at least 3/4's of a pack on this piece alone. Here's what I am gonna do - gonna rename this piece Part #1 and then do the human story angle in Part #2, which will also include a brief commentary on a fellow Hiv'er who not only is in the same boat as me, more or less, but who went public with it a few days ago. I didn't want to be "the first" on this one anyways, that kinda thing isnt my cup of tea, but if he or any of his friends read this will you please tell him I feel so much less alone because of him? I'd tell him myself but he's ignoring me - yep, another story, another posting. Or as one of my journalistic heroes, Linda Ellerbe would say "And so it goes." Thanks for reading everyone.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Relationships: Hiv+ versus Hiv- Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I have been wanting to write a specific essay on this subject for almost 20 years now, if not longer. But the ironic thing about it is that after 20 years, it has changed so much. When I first found out I was HIV+ back in 1989 the rule of thumb when it came to relationships was that Hiv'er sticks with Hiv'er because it's "easier" or "a fellow Hiv'er understands exactly what you're going through, a non-Hiv'er cant even fathom it." On the former - no relationship, at least not the long-term ones - is easy - it requires a lot of devotion and commitment as well as hard work. In regards to the latter there may be some truth to that statement but I just have one question about all of this - whatever happened to falling in love with another person because of who they are and not because of what disease they do or don't have?
For years I have heard so many people, Hiv'er and non-Hiv'er alike, say "Oh, well you dont wanna become involved with someone who doesn't have it cause you'll die before them." Who in fuck's name created that kinda warped logic?? That is such purely, unadulterated bullshit! Oh my God, an Hiv'er such as myself could become involved with the most wonderful guy in the world, even get married, and then on the way home from City Hall the guy could get hit by a friggin bus! Yeah, just like that. Death and dying is something that is not one-sided, it can and does happen to all of us at some point in our lives, it's a definite guarantee.
True, yes, being with a fellow Hiv'er does relieve some of the personal stigma we Hiv'ers experience; and, I am not telling anyone who to date - all I'm saying is that when you take and alienate an entire segment of the dating population based strictly on their medical conditions (or lack thereof) you are feeding and creating the same exact stigma that all of us have fought so hard to destroy all these years.
In the last two decades I have seen things change and I must say, it's about time people. I have seen many Hiv'ers become involved with non-Hiv'ers and guess what? The medical issues or again, lack thereof, had NOTHING to do with whether the relationship fared well or not. Those relationships worked because the two people involved cared about each other, loved each other, stuck through the good and not-so-good and so on and so on. Yeah, it's pretty clear that common sense still goes a long way when it comes to this interpersonal stuff.
Take a moment and think about it. I'm serious. For those of us who are single, regardless if you're HIV+ or not, why on God's green earth (or whatever your religious beliefs are, doesn't matter) would you intentionally cut your chances in half (if not more) on finding that one special person who really rocks your world, just because of a medical condition or lack thereof? Why anyone would think or even behave with such rationale is not only imbecillic, but it's lower than prepubescent gibberish. I mean it.
Two guys - or two gals, or a guy and gal, or hell, 2 marshmellows - meet, spend some time with each other and start to fall in love. Then all of a sudden, one night as they're enjoying a nice night of dancing or going to see a show, they are driving home and the one person turns to the other and says "Uhm, Honey? I have pancreatic cancer and since you don't...uhm...we're through!" Now how fucked up is that? Hello? HELLO??? It's like "WTF Batman, WTF???"
Let me tell you something. When you love someone, it doesn't matter what the hell you're going through or what they're going through. Love doesn't have all these fucked-up rules and idiosycrasies - it's people who create those kinds of things. Love is hard? Love is cruel? No, it depends on what people do with it once they find it that makes it those ways. Love is the firm yet gentle caress of a hand, that first "Good-Morning-So-Happy-You-Are-Here!!!" kiss of the morning, the lending of a shoulder when your workday was lousy, and yes, Love is even when you're eyes are rolling up in the back of your head for over 5 minutes non-stop, as you think to yourself "Are we even suppose to be experiencing something like this?? Have Mercy!!!"
I'll admit, I'm no Dr. Ruth when it comes to relationshis and sex, but damn, it's no wonder that so many people have such a hard time finding that one person who will change their life forever, and when we let it, usually for the better. I know it's not easy out there, I live it every day but damn, is it really gonna hurt any of us to try and keep both our minds and our hearts just a little bit more open? I don't think so.
The secret(s) to maintaining a healthy, successful relationship? If I get going on this subject I will be straying away from my original subject matter; and, I don't wanna do that because I do not want to detract my focus point because again, it's been on my mind for over 20 years. Yes, there are keys to making it all work - mutual respect, 100% open communication at all times, knowing when to compromise, and the list goes on and on but here's the best advice I would like to take the liberty of offering - do what works for you two, you two make the decisions, no one else, it's whatever you two want it to be. From my personal experience? This is what has always worked for me - IF you can make your partner feel like they are the most important person in the world at the end of the day, trust me, you are there.
Like everyone out there, I have had my fair share of relationships that did and didn't work out but I'm just one of those people who loves being in love. I dont know anyone who doesnt and for those of you who say you don't - stop kidding yourselves because you sure as hell aren't kidding the rest of us. There's nothing wrong with wanting that someone who has that special touch. And, when you really think about, it really is love that has kept the world spinning around all these centuries - people will go beyond their own personal limits to secure it and why not? What else is there?
Whew, once again I covered alotta territory this evening. Please, if not for yourself then at least for those around you who care about you - don't close the door on someone just because they aren't or are HIV+, have cancer, have fluorescent pink polka dots all over their cheeks, etc. etc. - give that person a chance and most of all, give yourself a chance. Don't you think you're worthy of it? I sure do. Thanks for reading.
For years I have heard so many people, Hiv'er and non-Hiv'er alike, say "Oh, well you dont wanna become involved with someone who doesn't have it cause you'll die before them." Who in fuck's name created that kinda warped logic?? That is such purely, unadulterated bullshit! Oh my God, an Hiv'er such as myself could become involved with the most wonderful guy in the world, even get married, and then on the way home from City Hall the guy could get hit by a friggin bus! Yeah, just like that. Death and dying is something that is not one-sided, it can and does happen to all of us at some point in our lives, it's a definite guarantee.
True, yes, being with a fellow Hiv'er does relieve some of the personal stigma we Hiv'ers experience; and, I am not telling anyone who to date - all I'm saying is that when you take and alienate an entire segment of the dating population based strictly on their medical conditions (or lack thereof) you are feeding and creating the same exact stigma that all of us have fought so hard to destroy all these years.
In the last two decades I have seen things change and I must say, it's about time people. I have seen many Hiv'ers become involved with non-Hiv'ers and guess what? The medical issues or again, lack thereof, had NOTHING to do with whether the relationship fared well or not. Those relationships worked because the two people involved cared about each other, loved each other, stuck through the good and not-so-good and so on and so on. Yeah, it's pretty clear that common sense still goes a long way when it comes to this interpersonal stuff.
Take a moment and think about it. I'm serious. For those of us who are single, regardless if you're HIV+ or not, why on God's green earth (or whatever your religious beliefs are, doesn't matter) would you intentionally cut your chances in half (if not more) on finding that one special person who really rocks your world, just because of a medical condition or lack thereof? Why anyone would think or even behave with such rationale is not only imbecillic, but it's lower than prepubescent gibberish. I mean it.
Two guys - or two gals, or a guy and gal, or hell, 2 marshmellows - meet, spend some time with each other and start to fall in love. Then all of a sudden, one night as they're enjoying a nice night of dancing or going to see a show, they are driving home and the one person turns to the other and says "Uhm, Honey? I have pancreatic cancer and since you don't...uhm...we're through!" Now how fucked up is that? Hello? HELLO??? It's like "WTF Batman, WTF???"
Let me tell you something. When you love someone, it doesn't matter what the hell you're going through or what they're going through. Love doesn't have all these fucked-up rules and idiosycrasies - it's people who create those kinds of things. Love is hard? Love is cruel? No, it depends on what people do with it once they find it that makes it those ways. Love is the firm yet gentle caress of a hand, that first "Good-Morning-So-Happy-You-Are-Here!!!" kiss of the morning, the lending of a shoulder when your workday was lousy, and yes, Love is even when you're eyes are rolling up in the back of your head for over 5 minutes non-stop, as you think to yourself "Are we even suppose to be experiencing something like this?? Have Mercy!!!"
I'll admit, I'm no Dr. Ruth when it comes to relationshis and sex, but damn, it's no wonder that so many people have such a hard time finding that one person who will change their life forever, and when we let it, usually for the better. I know it's not easy out there, I live it every day but damn, is it really gonna hurt any of us to try and keep both our minds and our hearts just a little bit more open? I don't think so.
The secret(s) to maintaining a healthy, successful relationship? If I get going on this subject I will be straying away from my original subject matter; and, I don't wanna do that because I do not want to detract my focus point because again, it's been on my mind for over 20 years. Yes, there are keys to making it all work - mutual respect, 100% open communication at all times, knowing when to compromise, and the list goes on and on but here's the best advice I would like to take the liberty of offering - do what works for you two, you two make the decisions, no one else, it's whatever you two want it to be. From my personal experience? This is what has always worked for me - IF you can make your partner feel like they are the most important person in the world at the end of the day, trust me, you are there.
Like everyone out there, I have had my fair share of relationships that did and didn't work out but I'm just one of those people who loves being in love. I dont know anyone who doesnt and for those of you who say you don't - stop kidding yourselves because you sure as hell aren't kidding the rest of us. There's nothing wrong with wanting that someone who has that special touch. And, when you really think about, it really is love that has kept the world spinning around all these centuries - people will go beyond their own personal limits to secure it and why not? What else is there?
Whew, once again I covered alotta territory this evening. Please, if not for yourself then at least for those around you who care about you - don't close the door on someone just because they aren't or are HIV+, have cancer, have fluorescent pink polka dots all over their cheeks, etc. etc. - give that person a chance and most of all, give yourself a chance. Don't you think you're worthy of it? I sure do. Thanks for reading.
Shedding A Bit More (More Like Failed Attempt #1) - Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I dont know if it's legal or not to share people's actual names in these blog postings; however, I do respect the privacy of others and will NOT use any real names ever unless I have that individual's implicit permission. But for this particular posting, it doesn't matter cause I am gonna begin writing and just let it flow...I dont know where this is gonna end up so you may or may not need to reach for that steaming mug of coffee over on your kitchen counter at this point in time...
When he died, I didn't even get a phonecall. His closest friends and confidantes didnt even know about us, or so he told me; but, I think at least one or two did know because when you have pure, unabashed feelings for someone in the way we did for each other, that's just something you can't hide. Sometimes after spending time with each other, we would be sitting close to each other on the couch and he would hold my hand and tease me, in a loving way mind you, "You know, we dont want you to be known as my dirty little secret" and we would both laugh. Since then that laughter has turned into occassional pensiveness and the well of emotion that rises in me when I even speak of him is like a cannonball shot, sort of like the kind when you first meet someone who you know is gonna challenge every single concept you have of the word love.
Yeah I need to stop. I'm not ready for this, not this moment, but I will be, I will work through it, I promise myself. I think I need to take just 2 or 3 more steps back and re-evaluate how I am going to communicate to you the personal connection I share with the man in this piece. I can't even make the slightest infraction of inaccuracy when I describe to you the special bond we shared because I loved him so much and he truly deserved the best in every sense of the word. I knew him when he was my hero, but yet I dont mind the way the world sees him now because not only did he always always deserve the degree of recognition he's finally getting, but he truly earned every single word that is written about him - and then some.
Whoever you are, whatever your circumstances are, please dont ever ever enter into a hidden relationship because when the other person is gone, you have nothing. You cant say to someone "Oh well you know, he and I use to do this-n-that" or "Well, that's not the way it was.." because the only validation you have are the memories and what you feel in your heart. Now that's good enough for me, good enough for many of us, but it will never be good enough in the eyes of the outside world.
Right this moment I am thinking of one of my lady friends from Ireland, who practically does know my life story in regards to this particular chapter of it, and maybe I should say what she always tells me when it comes to what others think "Bloody hell, tell 'em ahl to just fech off!!!" And I should, I really should because that's one of the things the man in this piece loved about me - my fire, tempered with compassion, but with a spark unparalleled to any other(or so he use to tell me) He gave so much to others but he always made me feel like the universe, not the center, but the whole kit-n-caboodle. I will never forget him and I will always hold him close in my heart.
Rule #1 about writing anything - get a hold of yourself emotionally before composing. Then again, torrents of emotions mixed with floodgates of vocabulary can sometimes make an interesting mix, cant they? Of course, I'm sure there's some literary buttmunch out there who will say "You cant do that Spice, that's not right!" We all know from the previous paragraph what my next response would be...lol. Thanks for reading everyone.
When he died, I didn't even get a phonecall. His closest friends and confidantes didnt even know about us, or so he told me; but, I think at least one or two did know because when you have pure, unabashed feelings for someone in the way we did for each other, that's just something you can't hide. Sometimes after spending time with each other, we would be sitting close to each other on the couch and he would hold my hand and tease me, in a loving way mind you, "You know, we dont want you to be known as my dirty little secret" and we would both laugh. Since then that laughter has turned into occassional pensiveness and the well of emotion that rises in me when I even speak of him is like a cannonball shot, sort of like the kind when you first meet someone who you know is gonna challenge every single concept you have of the word love.
Yeah I need to stop. I'm not ready for this, not this moment, but I will be, I will work through it, I promise myself. I think I need to take just 2 or 3 more steps back and re-evaluate how I am going to communicate to you the personal connection I share with the man in this piece. I can't even make the slightest infraction of inaccuracy when I describe to you the special bond we shared because I loved him so much and he truly deserved the best in every sense of the word. I knew him when he was my hero, but yet I dont mind the way the world sees him now because not only did he always always deserve the degree of recognition he's finally getting, but he truly earned every single word that is written about him - and then some.
Whoever you are, whatever your circumstances are, please dont ever ever enter into a hidden relationship because when the other person is gone, you have nothing. You cant say to someone "Oh well you know, he and I use to do this-n-that" or "Well, that's not the way it was.." because the only validation you have are the memories and what you feel in your heart. Now that's good enough for me, good enough for many of us, but it will never be good enough in the eyes of the outside world.
Right this moment I am thinking of one of my lady friends from Ireland, who practically does know my life story in regards to this particular chapter of it, and maybe I should say what she always tells me when it comes to what others think "Bloody hell, tell 'em ahl to just fech off!!!" And I should, I really should because that's one of the things the man in this piece loved about me - my fire, tempered with compassion, but with a spark unparalleled to any other(or so he use to tell me) He gave so much to others but he always made me feel like the universe, not the center, but the whole kit-n-caboodle. I will never forget him and I will always hold him close in my heart.
Rule #1 about writing anything - get a hold of yourself emotionally before composing. Then again, torrents of emotions mixed with floodgates of vocabulary can sometimes make an interesting mix, cant they? Of course, I'm sure there's some literary buttmunch out there who will say "You cant do that Spice, that's not right!" We all know from the previous paragraph what my next response would be...lol. Thanks for reading everyone.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Damaged Goods - Thursday, May 27, 2010
Several months after I was declared cancer-free, a few of my friends suggested that I venture back into the dating scene - in their minds they had decided that after what I went through it was time to treat myself to meeting some new people and having a bit of romance in my life. Their intentions were good, bless them for that; but, my 1st date as an HIV+, post-cancer survivor was a disaster!
It was one of those blind date experiences. That shoulda been my 1st red flag because all the while I kept thinking "Oh please God, not another one of those snooty, white Back Bay types that talks constantly about himself!" Please pardon my racist comment but you would have to live here to understand that that is a common term used quite often to describe certain people. I know, I know, it doesnt excuse me using the term "white" in a racist way but that's the way it is in these parts.
Unlike most people, I have no particular physical "type" when it comes to what I look for in a man. I just figure if the guy can handle someone like me, he's gotta be brave and God help him! Seriously though, he appeared to be a very nice person, had a pleasent personality and he was cute - about 6' 3", nice medium build with very muscular arms, green eyes, and slightly curly jet black hair, which was so gorgeous you just wanted to say "You keep talking slim, I'll just give you a nice scalp massage Sweethaht"....
Anywho, he took me out to dinner at Nick's (or was it Rick's?) Restaurant, the same place where Sinatra use to eat when he was in Beantown, and we hadda very nice dinner. That restaurant closed several years back but it was truly a Boston institution, located right on the water and across the way from where all the Harbor tour boats as well as the ferries from Cape Cod would dock. In fact, due to its location it was the perfect place to take a nice stroll along the harbor area after dinner. And that's what we did.
While we were walking, he decided to hold out his hand so that he could hold mine and I thought to myself "Well Sparky, this is impressive, you just earned a few bonus points." But as we all well know, the Feet of Fate always like to kick who right square in the ass? You guessed it...
We were chit-chatting about some of the Harbor history-facts and minute stuff like that when all of a sudden he said to me "So, what's the deal with the cancer stuff?" and I stopped right in my tracks and said "What do you mean?" I've always known that you do not discuss private medical stuff with someone you dont know, especially on a first date, just totally inappropriate. Apparently, one of my friends mentioned to him that I just went through a battle with cancer, I just wish my friend would have had the common decency to let me know this or at least discuss it with me ahead of time. So I thought to myself "I'll just be honest and take a chance that the guy's alright."
All I said was "Yes" and he asked me what kind. What I should have said is "I dont feel comfortable discussing that with you, but thank you for the nice evening" and walked away and taken the T home. But, I've always believed there is something good and loving in everyone, so what did I do? I told the truth. I responded "Testicular cancer but I am recovering pretty well so far." I made a mistake by saying that but didnt realize it till a minute later.
He giggled - yes, the man actually giggled - and said "Boy, that sure does give new meaning to the term "damaged goods" doesnt it?" Talk about a deer getting hit with a set of headlights - I could not believe it! I just stood there, my mouth literally opened and dropped for what seemed like 5 hours (but was actually about a minute and a half) and I just could not speak. I, Mr. Mouth himself, went numb. All kinds of thoughts rushed through my head...
Did I hear this correctly? Is this in my imagination? But it wasnt just shock and angry disbelief that was on my mind, I was hurt, I felt attacked and wounded in every sense possible. How anyone could ever say that to another human being, regardless of the situation, the location of the exchange, etc, etc. was totally beyond my human comprehension - it still is, obviously so or I wouldnt be sitting here writing about it.
What did I do? My natural inclination would've been to literally belt the guy so hard that his great-great-great grandmother woulda done triple-summersaults in her grave - yes, that is how angry I was and I've only been that angry about twice in my life. But, I'm one of those people that believes a person should use physical violence under only one condition and one condition only - in self-defense. All I said was this "Wow...I gotta go."
Oh he followed after me and kept asking what was wrong, and then apologizing, and then asking if he could drive me home, and the ultimate final line that tells you all the guy was really interested in the first place was getting a piece of ass - "I think you're being a bit sensitive." So I just got on the T and went home. Sure, I was upset for a long time afterwards but I thought to myself "Why let one jerk affect my chances of finding someone decent?" That's something we all need to keep in mind regardless of our situations - there's always gonna be losers out there, we just gotta keep our sights set on finding the winners. Thanks for reading.
It was one of those blind date experiences. That shoulda been my 1st red flag because all the while I kept thinking "Oh please God, not another one of those snooty, white Back Bay types that talks constantly about himself!" Please pardon my racist comment but you would have to live here to understand that that is a common term used quite often to describe certain people. I know, I know, it doesnt excuse me using the term "white" in a racist way but that's the way it is in these parts.
Unlike most people, I have no particular physical "type" when it comes to what I look for in a man. I just figure if the guy can handle someone like me, he's gotta be brave and God help him! Seriously though, he appeared to be a very nice person, had a pleasent personality and he was cute - about 6' 3", nice medium build with very muscular arms, green eyes, and slightly curly jet black hair, which was so gorgeous you just wanted to say "You keep talking slim, I'll just give you a nice scalp massage Sweethaht"....
Anywho, he took me out to dinner at Nick's (or was it Rick's?) Restaurant, the same place where Sinatra use to eat when he was in Beantown, and we hadda very nice dinner. That restaurant closed several years back but it was truly a Boston institution, located right on the water and across the way from where all the Harbor tour boats as well as the ferries from Cape Cod would dock. In fact, due to its location it was the perfect place to take a nice stroll along the harbor area after dinner. And that's what we did.
While we were walking, he decided to hold out his hand so that he could hold mine and I thought to myself "Well Sparky, this is impressive, you just earned a few bonus points." But as we all well know, the Feet of Fate always like to kick who right square in the ass? You guessed it...
We were chit-chatting about some of the Harbor history-facts and minute stuff like that when all of a sudden he said to me "So, what's the deal with the cancer stuff?" and I stopped right in my tracks and said "What do you mean?" I've always known that you do not discuss private medical stuff with someone you dont know, especially on a first date, just totally inappropriate. Apparently, one of my friends mentioned to him that I just went through a battle with cancer, I just wish my friend would have had the common decency to let me know this or at least discuss it with me ahead of time. So I thought to myself "I'll just be honest and take a chance that the guy's alright."
All I said was "Yes" and he asked me what kind. What I should have said is "I dont feel comfortable discussing that with you, but thank you for the nice evening" and walked away and taken the T home. But, I've always believed there is something good and loving in everyone, so what did I do? I told the truth. I responded "Testicular cancer but I am recovering pretty well so far." I made a mistake by saying that but didnt realize it till a minute later.
He giggled - yes, the man actually giggled - and said "Boy, that sure does give new meaning to the term "damaged goods" doesnt it?" Talk about a deer getting hit with a set of headlights - I could not believe it! I just stood there, my mouth literally opened and dropped for what seemed like 5 hours (but was actually about a minute and a half) and I just could not speak. I, Mr. Mouth himself, went numb. All kinds of thoughts rushed through my head...
Did I hear this correctly? Is this in my imagination? But it wasnt just shock and angry disbelief that was on my mind, I was hurt, I felt attacked and wounded in every sense possible. How anyone could ever say that to another human being, regardless of the situation, the location of the exchange, etc, etc. was totally beyond my human comprehension - it still is, obviously so or I wouldnt be sitting here writing about it.
What did I do? My natural inclination would've been to literally belt the guy so hard that his great-great-great grandmother woulda done triple-summersaults in her grave - yes, that is how angry I was and I've only been that angry about twice in my life. But, I'm one of those people that believes a person should use physical violence under only one condition and one condition only - in self-defense. All I said was this "Wow...I gotta go."
Oh he followed after me and kept asking what was wrong, and then apologizing, and then asking if he could drive me home, and the ultimate final line that tells you all the guy was really interested in the first place was getting a piece of ass - "I think you're being a bit sensitive." So I just got on the T and went home. Sure, I was upset for a long time afterwards but I thought to myself "Why let one jerk affect my chances of finding someone decent?" That's something we all need to keep in mind regardless of our situations - there's always gonna be losers out there, we just gotta keep our sights set on finding the winners. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The Benedryl Story - Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The best way to describe how I felt physically during each day of my chemo, as well as several days after each cycle ended was a mixture of pensive, nautious, light-headed, restless, you name it, it wasn't a fun time at all.
I had MAJOR problems sleeping at night, which started during the 1st cycle of chemo. It was so bad that on the 3rd morning of chemo I told one of my oncologists about it and so he prescribed Ativan. I tried it and it didn't work, didnt even phase me. So after a couple of days we talked about it again and here's what he told me...
"Children's Benedryl Liquid, any flavor." And I said "You gotta be kidding me, but what if it hurts me, what if it affects me negatively with all the medications I'm currently on, plus with the chemo drugs inside of me??" He knew my entire medical situation quite well after talking with my infectious diseases doctor, my urologist and so on..so he looked me square in the face and said "(my real name) what have you got to lose?" And, he was right.
So, I tried it and...it worked!!! Omg it friggin worked and as dead sick as I was I was overjoyed!! I slept like a baby from that night onward until I was finally declared cancer-free months later! It was amazing! Truly amazing that something so simple, something so inexpensive, something so over-the-counter could give my worn-out body the extremely required sleep needed in order to fight one of the hugest medical battles of my life.
And the ONLY bad side effect was that I felt groggy the next morning. Groggy I could handle, walking around like the living dead? No way Baby.
The dosage was simple - personally, I loved the Cherry-flavored version(!) - take 2 TEAspoons of it; BUT, NOT the Teaspoon sizes from the little plastic cup on the top of the bottle - instead, the standard kitchen sized teaspoons one would use for everyday use. In most cases, within 30 to 45 minutes a person will start to fall asleep very gently and without any struggle whatsoever.
I am NOT a medical doctor and I am NOT advising you or anyone with any type of illness/disease to try this. I am only sharing with you what worked for me and it worked wonders! DO NOT try this product without speaking to your doctor/main medical professional FIRST. What works for me may not work for you.
Back then I had no problems taking the Children's Benedryl liquid, it did not interact with any of my drugs, both the chemo drugs - and when I was done with that, the HIV drugs either. Last week I had a restless night and was tempted to take some but after 11 years I thought to myself "Better call the pharmacy first and ask just to be on the safe side." I did and the head pharmacist told me there would not be any negative drug interactions; BUT to doublecheck with my doctor. Sooooo, I stayed up till 3 a.m. till I finally fell asleep. Woke back up at 7:30 a.m., called my main doctor and she confirmed it - it would not be a problem. And it wasn't.
I think what the one oncologist from 11 years ago - unless I made a mistake in the interpretation? - was trying to tell me when it came to my apprehension of trying the product was this - "Look, you got so many aces stacked against you, what is one harmless children's over-the-counter medication gonna really do to your house of cards?" And he was right. For me, it was worth taking that chance.
But again, that doesn't mean it's right for everyone else. I would hate to suggest to anyone to try what I did and then end up getting very sick or ending up in a coma, know what I mean? ASK YOUR DOCTOR FIRST AND/OR MEDICAL TEAM before you consider trying what I did.
Last month on my open Facebook homepage I read a post where a fellow Hiv'er I am friends with and another I do not know were briefly exchanging experiences about how they just could not get any normal sleep, one of the two for a very very long time. I wanted sooooo bad to say "Look you gotta try what I did" but that woulda been the wrong thing to do, again, I woulda felt so bad if either of them tried it with
not-so-positive results.
And that is why I was compelled to write this particular post, not just to share my experiences or more details from my cancer period - but because I cannot imagine anyone not being able to sleep normally when there is a POSSIBILITY that something very simple may just do the trick for them. Yeah, sure, I've had many restless nights since those cancer days but when the going-gets-tough, I take the stuff and it works like a charm, like it always has.
Then again, it's not like the friend or his friend would've listened to me anyways. People are still discounting me because I am not 100% open about my HIV+ status, but I cant emphasize this enough to everyone I know here on Facebook and beyond - fictional name or not, I am real and my experiences are real, it doesnt make me count any less as a HIV+ individual or a human being. I wouldn't be writing one single word if it wasn't the truth and didn't come straight from my heart. I mean it. Thanks for reading everyone.
I had MAJOR problems sleeping at night, which started during the 1st cycle of chemo. It was so bad that on the 3rd morning of chemo I told one of my oncologists about it and so he prescribed Ativan. I tried it and it didn't work, didnt even phase me. So after a couple of days we talked about it again and here's what he told me...
"Children's Benedryl Liquid, any flavor." And I said "You gotta be kidding me, but what if it hurts me, what if it affects me negatively with all the medications I'm currently on, plus with the chemo drugs inside of me??" He knew my entire medical situation quite well after talking with my infectious diseases doctor, my urologist and so on..so he looked me square in the face and said "(my real name) what have you got to lose?" And, he was right.
So, I tried it and...it worked!!! Omg it friggin worked and as dead sick as I was I was overjoyed!! I slept like a baby from that night onward until I was finally declared cancer-free months later! It was amazing! Truly amazing that something so simple, something so inexpensive, something so over-the-counter could give my worn-out body the extremely required sleep needed in order to fight one of the hugest medical battles of my life.
And the ONLY bad side effect was that I felt groggy the next morning. Groggy I could handle, walking around like the living dead? No way Baby.
The dosage was simple - personally, I loved the Cherry-flavored version(!) - take 2 TEAspoons of it; BUT, NOT the Teaspoon sizes from the little plastic cup on the top of the bottle - instead, the standard kitchen sized teaspoons one would use for everyday use. In most cases, within 30 to 45 minutes a person will start to fall asleep very gently and without any struggle whatsoever.
I am NOT a medical doctor and I am NOT advising you or anyone with any type of illness/disease to try this. I am only sharing with you what worked for me and it worked wonders! DO NOT try this product without speaking to your doctor/main medical professional FIRST. What works for me may not work for you.
Back then I had no problems taking the Children's Benedryl liquid, it did not interact with any of my drugs, both the chemo drugs - and when I was done with that, the HIV drugs either. Last week I had a restless night and was tempted to take some but after 11 years I thought to myself "Better call the pharmacy first and ask just to be on the safe side." I did and the head pharmacist told me there would not be any negative drug interactions; BUT to doublecheck with my doctor. Sooooo, I stayed up till 3 a.m. till I finally fell asleep. Woke back up at 7:30 a.m., called my main doctor and she confirmed it - it would not be a problem. And it wasn't.
I think what the one oncologist from 11 years ago - unless I made a mistake in the interpretation? - was trying to tell me when it came to my apprehension of trying the product was this - "Look, you got so many aces stacked against you, what is one harmless children's over-the-counter medication gonna really do to your house of cards?" And he was right. For me, it was worth taking that chance.
But again, that doesn't mean it's right for everyone else. I would hate to suggest to anyone to try what I did and then end up getting very sick or ending up in a coma, know what I mean? ASK YOUR DOCTOR FIRST AND/OR MEDICAL TEAM before you consider trying what I did.
Last month on my open Facebook homepage I read a post where a fellow Hiv'er I am friends with and another I do not know were briefly exchanging experiences about how they just could not get any normal sleep, one of the two for a very very long time. I wanted sooooo bad to say "Look you gotta try what I did" but that woulda been the wrong thing to do, again, I woulda felt so bad if either of them tried it with
not-so-positive results.
And that is why I was compelled to write this particular post, not just to share my experiences or more details from my cancer period - but because I cannot imagine anyone not being able to sleep normally when there is a POSSIBILITY that something very simple may just do the trick for them. Yeah, sure, I've had many restless nights since those cancer days but when the going-gets-tough, I take the stuff and it works like a charm, like it always has.
Then again, it's not like the friend or his friend would've listened to me anyways. People are still discounting me because I am not 100% open about my HIV+ status, but I cant emphasize this enough to everyone I know here on Facebook and beyond - fictional name or not, I am real and my experiences are real, it doesnt make me count any less as a HIV+ individual or a human being. I wouldn't be writing one single word if it wasn't the truth and didn't come straight from my heart. I mean it. Thanks for reading everyone.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Three Strikes And You're Out? Nope - Tuesday, May 25, 2010
On three seperate occassions I almost didnt make it through the cancer period but am so thankful I did. Life is so precious, I just wish we didnt always have to learn that the hard way.
The 1st time happened in between chemo cycles #1 and #2. I had woken up in the morning to take my usual morning pee and about 5 seconds into it, something musta happened because I remember waking up in a hospital room with a giant bandage all over my head. Apparently my blood pressure had dropped so rapidly that I passed out, hit my head on toilet, which in turn gave me a major concussion! Trust me, only me, only me. If that's what a blackout is called, they arent any fun!
The 2nd time took place one day during chemo cycle #2. I remember them telling me that becoming diabetic was a possibe side effect of the chemo, which I never thought anything of since my glucose levels have been normal for most of my life. Well about half-way into that days chemo, one of the oncology nurses was doing my vitals, and I was only feeling sleepy at the time, no big deal - and suddenly she yelled "OMG! We gotta get this one over to ER pronto!!" and I said - and I didnt mean to be bitchy, I really didnt - "Are you fucken kidding me?? I'm half-dead already, what the hell are you talking about???"
The glucose levels were not at 300, nor 400 or 500; but, at 695! And omg, this giant rush of people was hovering all over me asking if I was okay and I just said I was sleepy and you all need to get a hold of yourselves!
So I ended up staying that particular week in the hospital - chemo as usual and at night instead of getting to go home they shipped me upstairs, then back down in the morning, back up at night and so on.
The first night was the most intense, but for me, in a funny yet sarcastic kind of way. As soon as they admitted me to a hospital room all these people came rushing in - cardiologist, diabetes educator, hospital social worker and 2 individuals that I never in a million years expected to see - a Catholic Priest and a Rabbi! At that time my Mom and one of my sisters was there, so I looked at them standing there, then at my sister, who said "Don't you dare" and I said to her "Hey if I'm fucking dying, might as well go out with a bang!" so she told both gentleman to ignore any irrational behavior on my part! I was laughing at the time as well, I just could not stop laughing incessently!! An anxiety release perhaps...?
So all I said was this "Look, I dont know what you two gentlemen are doing here because I do not belong to any particular organized religion. But if I am dying and leaving this earth, the last thing I want is some holy man standing over this soon-to-be-carcass!" The Rabbi actually laughed, as was I the entire time, and politely excused himself though I did thank him for his concern. As for the Catholic Priest, he was persistent and said "Well, dont you want your last rites read to you??" and I looked him straight in the face and said "Would you like to hear yours right now??" and I stared him down till he left that hospital room - I think it was a look that neither of us will ever forget.
The 3rd time was in-between chemo cycles #2 and #3...they were doing their usual ct scan check on me when a technician spotted something and set off some kind of alarm in the room and before you knew it a bevy of nurses and techs were heading me over to ER - they had found a small blood clot near the surgery area and it was moving at a rapid rate. So I spent about a week and a half in the hospital that time but if you were add up all the time I practically lived at that place it would equal exactly 4 months of my life.
Oh and during this last major scare (they ended up putting in a screen or net or whatever they call it in my groin to prevent it from ever happening again, which it didnt)all I remember is being very very sleepy a lot of the time. I was out of it during those chemo cycles, a true basket case some of the time.
I'm losing my steam on writing right now so gonna call it quits for a bit. My next post is gonna be about Benedryl and it concerns not just folks facing cancer, but us Hiv'ers as well as anyone dealing with a major disease. Thanks for reading everyone.
The 1st time happened in between chemo cycles #1 and #2. I had woken up in the morning to take my usual morning pee and about 5 seconds into it, something musta happened because I remember waking up in a hospital room with a giant bandage all over my head. Apparently my blood pressure had dropped so rapidly that I passed out, hit my head on toilet, which in turn gave me a major concussion! Trust me, only me, only me. If that's what a blackout is called, they arent any fun!
The 2nd time took place one day during chemo cycle #2. I remember them telling me that becoming diabetic was a possibe side effect of the chemo, which I never thought anything of since my glucose levels have been normal for most of my life. Well about half-way into that days chemo, one of the oncology nurses was doing my vitals, and I was only feeling sleepy at the time, no big deal - and suddenly she yelled "OMG! We gotta get this one over to ER pronto!!" and I said - and I didnt mean to be bitchy, I really didnt - "Are you fucken kidding me?? I'm half-dead already, what the hell are you talking about???"
The glucose levels were not at 300, nor 400 or 500; but, at 695! And omg, this giant rush of people was hovering all over me asking if I was okay and I just said I was sleepy and you all need to get a hold of yourselves!
So I ended up staying that particular week in the hospital - chemo as usual and at night instead of getting to go home they shipped me upstairs, then back down in the morning, back up at night and so on.
The first night was the most intense, but for me, in a funny yet sarcastic kind of way. As soon as they admitted me to a hospital room all these people came rushing in - cardiologist, diabetes educator, hospital social worker and 2 individuals that I never in a million years expected to see - a Catholic Priest and a Rabbi! At that time my Mom and one of my sisters was there, so I looked at them standing there, then at my sister, who said "Don't you dare" and I said to her "Hey if I'm fucking dying, might as well go out with a bang!" so she told both gentleman to ignore any irrational behavior on my part! I was laughing at the time as well, I just could not stop laughing incessently!! An anxiety release perhaps...?
So all I said was this "Look, I dont know what you two gentlemen are doing here because I do not belong to any particular organized religion. But if I am dying and leaving this earth, the last thing I want is some holy man standing over this soon-to-be-carcass!" The Rabbi actually laughed, as was I the entire time, and politely excused himself though I did thank him for his concern. As for the Catholic Priest, he was persistent and said "Well, dont you want your last rites read to you??" and I looked him straight in the face and said "Would you like to hear yours right now??" and I stared him down till he left that hospital room - I think it was a look that neither of us will ever forget.
The 3rd time was in-between chemo cycles #2 and #3...they were doing their usual ct scan check on me when a technician spotted something and set off some kind of alarm in the room and before you knew it a bevy of nurses and techs were heading me over to ER - they had found a small blood clot near the surgery area and it was moving at a rapid rate. So I spent about a week and a half in the hospital that time but if you were add up all the time I practically lived at that place it would equal exactly 4 months of my life.
Oh and during this last major scare (they ended up putting in a screen or net or whatever they call it in my groin to prevent it from ever happening again, which it didnt)all I remember is being very very sleepy a lot of the time. I was out of it during those chemo cycles, a true basket case some of the time.
I'm losing my steam on writing right now so gonna call it quits for a bit. My next post is gonna be about Benedryl and it concerns not just folks facing cancer, but us Hiv'ers as well as anyone dealing with a major disease. Thanks for reading everyone.
Ghetto Crowns - Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Yeah, increments are better and easier to read. The last thing I want any of you to feel is weighted down, that sorta defeats the purpose of sharing my experiences with others.
Ghetto Crowns. I wore tons of the kewlest bandanas back then cause as you may recall from a previous posting, my hair fell out twice during the chemo period. I thought I was making those bandana caps right but after the 1st week I was almost in tears from the itching and abrasion that the slipping of those caps caused. They were made out of 100% cotton so I couldnt understand what was going on, it frustrated the living hell out of me at that point.
But one night when I stayed up late online - and I wish I could remember her name, but I still cant for the life of me - a black drag queen from the Baltimore, MD area came into my chatroom, Pozland, looking for one of her chat friends and she asked how I was doing, so I told her all about my bandana dilemma and I'll never forget what she told me.
She said "Spice, ooohhh child, youse doing it all wrong! LOL! You white boys sure do know how to fuck up the simple shit in life, don't you??" She made me laugh so hard I almost cried! So she took and explained to me very carefully how to make what she said was a Ghetto Crown. Let me see if I can still remember - you lay it out flat, the hankerchief; fold over in 1 inch increments 3 to 4 times on one end; place on your head and then wrap around and tie in the back. I tried it a few times and finally got it right - and, it worked! No more abrasion, no itching, no more pain.
Like with my little buddy Patrick, I never knew what happened to her (if I ever remember her name I must look for her, she was so nice to me) but I will never forget her and how she helped me out that night.
Ghetto Crowns. I wore tons of the kewlest bandanas back then cause as you may recall from a previous posting, my hair fell out twice during the chemo period. I thought I was making those bandana caps right but after the 1st week I was almost in tears from the itching and abrasion that the slipping of those caps caused. They were made out of 100% cotton so I couldnt understand what was going on, it frustrated the living hell out of me at that point.
But one night when I stayed up late online - and I wish I could remember her name, but I still cant for the life of me - a black drag queen from the Baltimore, MD area came into my chatroom, Pozland, looking for one of her chat friends and she asked how I was doing, so I told her all about my bandana dilemma and I'll never forget what she told me.
She said "Spice, ooohhh child, youse doing it all wrong! LOL! You white boys sure do know how to fuck up the simple shit in life, don't you??" She made me laugh so hard I almost cried! So she took and explained to me very carefully how to make what she said was a Ghetto Crown. Let me see if I can still remember - you lay it out flat, the hankerchief; fold over in 1 inch increments 3 to 4 times on one end; place on your head and then wrap around and tie in the back. I tried it a few times and finally got it right - and, it worked! No more abrasion, no itching, no more pain.
Like with my little buddy Patrick, I never knew what happened to her (if I ever remember her name I must look for her, she was so nice to me) but I will never forget her and how she helped me out that night.
Testicular Cancer - Part 2 - Tuesday, May 25, 2010
My previous posting was the lengthiest blog piece I've ever written but there was so much to say. I do need to make a chronological clarification to prevent any possible confusion among any of my readers.
In my Facebook bio I stated that I have been a cancer survivor since 1998, but that was a mistake - this period of my life took place from mid-January, 1999 until May, 1999 when I was declared cancer-free. But in 1998 I had sort of a tiny cancer scare for my dermatologist at the time (December, 1998) thought a couple of lesions I had were actually melanoma, which thank God they werent!
Nowadays I am doing okay, post-cancer that is. I do have minor infections here-n-there but I was told to expect that for the rest of my life; granted, being HIV+ doesn't help matters but what are you gonna do? You just gotta make the best of it. And, of course, there are the annual checkups/exams. Any time I have a medical problem I immerse myself in reading books, latest medical journal articles, checking out websites, etc., and statistically speaking, IF I ever were to have this again (I pray it never happens again but every cancer survivor will tell you that a re-occurrence is ALWAYS in the back of your mind) it would not hit me again till around the age of 58 or 59. And let's face it, I may not even be here then, none of us knows what the future holds when it comes to anything like that.
Food. Lottsa myths about that, some true, some not true. I was told to never eat any of my favorite foods during the chemo period because I would actually find myself getting sick off of them. I thought that was a banquet of bullshit, but not so. I could not eat ice cream or tuna fish until about 5 to 6 years after the chemo ended. Tuna-fish you ask?? Yes, I'm probaly one of the very few gay men in America who will admit to loving Tuna-fish! Plus it's good for you, Omega-3 fatty acids and all that good stuff...lol
Foods that helped me? Everyone told me ginger-snap cookies were a shoe-in but not so - I can't eat ginger period. I drink ginger-ale and it burns my throat and causes blisters, the same thing with ginger-snap cookies, which naturally I should've taken into consideration before trying! Fruitopia, a type of non-carbonated fruit-punch-like drink company originally owned by the Coca-Cola corporation (I believe), hadda flavor out called Strawberry-Mellon and I practically lived off of that when I was nautious and couldn't eat. Also, Ovaltine - check the vitamin content in that stuff, very healthy stuff - this and the Fruitopia helped, they helped a lot.
Losing weight during chemo? Only IF your body isn't responding well to the steroids. I kept thinking "Here's a plus - shed those few pesky pounds from last Christmas!" - never happened - I actually gained about 20 to 25 pounds by the time all was said-n-done.
Gonna break off here and do 2 more posts.
In my Facebook bio I stated that I have been a cancer survivor since 1998, but that was a mistake - this period of my life took place from mid-January, 1999 until May, 1999 when I was declared cancer-free. But in 1998 I had sort of a tiny cancer scare for my dermatologist at the time (December, 1998) thought a couple of lesions I had were actually melanoma, which thank God they werent!
Nowadays I am doing okay, post-cancer that is. I do have minor infections here-n-there but I was told to expect that for the rest of my life; granted, being HIV+ doesn't help matters but what are you gonna do? You just gotta make the best of it. And, of course, there are the annual checkups/exams. Any time I have a medical problem I immerse myself in reading books, latest medical journal articles, checking out websites, etc., and statistically speaking, IF I ever were to have this again (I pray it never happens again but every cancer survivor will tell you that a re-occurrence is ALWAYS in the back of your mind) it would not hit me again till around the age of 58 or 59. And let's face it, I may not even be here then, none of us knows what the future holds when it comes to anything like that.
Food. Lottsa myths about that, some true, some not true. I was told to never eat any of my favorite foods during the chemo period because I would actually find myself getting sick off of them. I thought that was a banquet of bullshit, but not so. I could not eat ice cream or tuna fish until about 5 to 6 years after the chemo ended. Tuna-fish you ask?? Yes, I'm probaly one of the very few gay men in America who will admit to loving Tuna-fish! Plus it's good for you, Omega-3 fatty acids and all that good stuff...lol
Foods that helped me? Everyone told me ginger-snap cookies were a shoe-in but not so - I can't eat ginger period. I drink ginger-ale and it burns my throat and causes blisters, the same thing with ginger-snap cookies, which naturally I should've taken into consideration before trying! Fruitopia, a type of non-carbonated fruit-punch-like drink company originally owned by the Coca-Cola corporation (I believe), hadda flavor out called Strawberry-Mellon and I practically lived off of that when I was nautious and couldn't eat. Also, Ovaltine - check the vitamin content in that stuff, very healthy stuff - this and the Fruitopia helped, they helped a lot.
Losing weight during chemo? Only IF your body isn't responding well to the steroids. I kept thinking "Here's a plus - shed those few pesky pounds from last Christmas!" - never happened - I actually gained about 20 to 25 pounds by the time all was said-n-done.
Gonna break off here and do 2 more posts.
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